


The Showmance

by GranolaSuite



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, British Comedy RPF, Chris Pratt - Fandom, Cumberbitches, Cumbercollective, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, hiddlestoners
Genre: Angst, Because I can, Chris Pratt - Freeform, Comedy, F/M, Fauxmance, Fluff, I'm already laughing, Jealous Benedict Cumberbatch, Jealous Tom Hiddleston, Khan body, Neighbours, Romance, Showmance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, TROLOLOL, Tears, Yes I'm going there, and Ben, angsty angsty, because we love Khan, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 45,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GranolaSuite/pseuds/GranolaSuite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an AU.. whatever the hell timeline I want... </p><p>So, you move across the other side of the country for work. It's a good decision, great opportunity and, well, it turns out your neighbour is a pretty decent guy, too. </p><p>A dash of comedy, a little bit of romance, and just a niggling issue that gets in the way will see us through this story...</p><p>With all the *controversy* surrounding The Batch at the moment, I'm going to take some of those... theories, and throw them into a fanfic. As you do. </p><p>Would love to see some kudos and comments, suggestions, crazy story ideas, I'm all for it. Let's do this! </p><p>Subscribe for updates, this one's gonna be fun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A new job had brought me to London, my home purchased sight unseen with the exception of photos on the realtor’s web site. I couldn’t get over to do a physical inspection so I had to trust my gut that I was making the right decision.

After more than one flight delay and an elongated stop over mid flight, I finally got to fight with the luggage carousel at Heathrow, trundle my way to the taxi bay, and flag down a far too long ride into central London, my new address scribbled on the back of a business card, all my other paperwork still on its way over in a shipping container.

It would be another week before I had furniture.

The first thing I did was search high and low for the bathroom, locating one on the ground floor, my real estate agent waiting patiently to walk me through the house for the first time.

It was clean, crisp, and airy, with light tones and wooden floorboards throughout the ground floor. Walking in to the house, there was a study to the left, sunken lounge to the right, a kitchen, dining and sitting area. Dark stone bench tops, gloss white cupboards, the same floorboards, and stainless steel appliances awaited me.

The entire left side of the house was windows, taking advantage of natural light, and light fittings scattered throughout. A quick check of the lights showed that more than a few globes had blown and needed replacing.

I added them to the shopping list.

My bedroom was spacious and empty. Very empty. I was looking forward to making firm friends with my ensuite, though, the double headed shower looked nothing short of divine. It was going to be a long week waiting for furniture. I was glad I had four weeks off before having to check in with my employers.

Nigel, my estate agent found me in one of the spare rooms. “Is everything in order, Miss. Weir?”

“Everything’s fine, thank you,” I replied, already trying to visualise my home office, and whether it should be on the top or the bottom floor.

“Excellent, well, I’ll leave you be, then,” he answered.

“Thank you, Nigel, I’ll be in touch.”

The front door lock clacked behind him and I was suddenly alone. Exhausted, I took another trip to the kitchen, a bottle of bubbly left on the bench alone with two fine crystal glasses. I made carpet angels on the floor of the lounge until my exhaustion claimed me for a few hours at least, a chance to sleep off a little bit of the jetlag.

It was night when I awoke, sending me fumbling for a light switch. Yep, it was still empty. I dragged my sorry self upstairs, along with my luggage, dug out my toiletry bag, showered and changed before I decided on a late night bus trip into town for supplies.

A new city, new people, new accents, and new customs to get used to, but still not that far removed from my life back home. London was a lovely, bustling metropolis, which soon afforded me all I’d need to at least make it overnight and into the next few days. Some groceries, a sleeping bag, towels, some cleaning supplies, and those pesky light globes clanged around in my shopping bags as I struggled to get home with a mop, bucket and broom tucked under my other arm.

Random cars drove past my front door, which I was thankful for, having not left the front porch light on so late at night. I made a mental note to get a sensor for it, which would save me having to worry later on.

I dropped my bags on the floor by the front door and fumbled with my keys in the front door, cursing and swearing at my shadow casting darkness upon the door before me.

“Do you need a hand?”

I looked up to find a man walking towards me, dark hair and broad shoulders, he stepped over my knee high front gate and up the concrete path.

“Just having a bit of trouble with the lack of lighting,” I offered, gesturing to the dead globe above me.

“Does it need changing? I’m sure I have a spare?”

“Oh, no thank you. I just forgot to turn it on.” I smiled as the figure pulled his phone from his pocket, and set the spotlight feature on my front door.

With my front door quickly unlocked, I scuttled my shopping bags into the entry and made for a hasty exit, my mystery light provider still standing there dutifully.

“Thank you for your help, that’s very kind of you.” I smiled in his direction, not entirely looking him straight in the eye.

“You’re very welcome.” He nodded as I pulled the screen door shut before him.

“I’m sorry, I’d invite you in, but I’m alone.”

“No trouble, so long as you got inside okay.” He gave a curt wave of the hand.

“It was lovely meet you.” I began to close the door on him.

“And you,” his voice petered off as I closed the wooden door. “I live next door and my name is Ben.”

I swung the door open quickly. “Lovely to meet you, Ben.”

“Good night.” He smiled, making his way back down my front path.

Good night indeed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_"Say you will, say you won't_  
_Make up your mind tonight_  
_Say you do, say you don't_  
_Wanna be mine"_

_-_ **Foreigner _, Say You Will_**

 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Ben whispered down the phone line.

“What? Why are you whispering?”

“Are you busy?” he asked.

“Well, no, I just came back from a run. Why?”

“I’ve got a new neighbour. You need to see this.”

“See this? Is your new neighbour a this?” Tom scoffed.

“Her, her, you need to see her. It’s a, she’s a her.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“She has her kitchen window open. I don’t want her to hear.”

“Have you got yours open?”

“Well, no.”

“Then she can’t hear. Tell me about this neighbour.”

“Okay, so I go for a run last night and I come home to find her standing on her doorstep cursing to blazers about getting the key in the lock.”

“I hate it when you can’t get it in the hole properly,” Tom laughed down the line.

“I’m being serious,” Ben sang. “Listen to me.”

“Right-o. Continue.”

“So, I’m a gentleman, I help her with my spotlight.”

“You mean a spotlight or metaphoric spotlight?”

“Fucking hell, Hiddleston, the light on my iPhone.”

“Yep. Okay. I’m being serious. I promise.” Tom tried to calm himself.

“She gets the door open, throws her bags in, and scuttles the door shut before I can get out my name.”

“That’s a bit rude!”

“Sort of, I guess. She’s just moved in yesterday.”

“What are you waiting for then? Be a friendly neighbour, welcome her to the ‘hood.”

“Come over. I want you to tell me what you think.”

“Don’t worry about what I think!” Tom shrieked. “Wait, what does she look like?”

“Urgh. Brown hair, mousy brown hair I guess. Big brown eyes, lovely smile, very warm,” Ben cleared his throat. “She’s a little shorter than me. Oh hell.”

“What?”

“I swear I’m not a creeper.”

“This is like those sentences that begin with ‘No offence, but’,” Tom joked.

“She’s got no curtains, man. I can see straight into her kitchen.”

“She naked?”

“No.” Ben glared down at the phone in his hand.

“Damn.”

“So far we’ve had pyjamas and bed hair, followed by short shorts and a t-shirt while she danced with the broom. I can only presume she was mopping the floor or something.” Ben was quiet a minute. “Oh, we’ve just opened the kitchen windows. She’s listening to Foreigner, _Say You Will_.”

“That song is sex. Go get some,” Tom encouraged.

“I can’t just show up on the doorstep for nothing,” Ben argued. “She’ll think I’m a tosser.”

“Well you are a bit of dickhead. You are on the phone to me instead of talking to her, being a welcoming neighbour, getting to know her. Go borrow a cup of sugar.”

“Come around, come around,” Ben urged.

“You want a threesome?”

“No!” Ben shrieked. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh God, she’s seen me watching her. Thanks a lot, Tom.”

“What’d you do?” Tom laughed.

“I fucking waved at her. Honestly. Could I be a bigger dickhead?”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll be there in ten.”

@@@

The sound of a shout startled me and I turned to see where it was coming from. I quick jerk of the blinds I was trying to hang revealed my helper last night.

His kitchen clearly faced mine, and I was met with a very guilty looking pair of blue eyes. In the light of day, I realised I knew exactly who he was. This, of course, made the situation even funnier and I smiled to myself as he busied himself pretending to wash dishes, a curt wave of the hand and the look of a small boy who’d been caught in the biscuit jar.

Did I mind that I’d caught his attention enough warrant that? Not at all!

A wary eye cast in his direction as I moved around, blind after blind going up with little trouble. Not ten minutes later, I heard the creak of a side gate opening, and an infectious laugh lit up my new neighbours’ backyard. The slide of a side door and the laughter disappeared inside for a while, and I continued on my merry way.

Sunshine drew me out into my backyard a short time later, my first chance for a good inspection of everything it had to offer, which was next to naught. No outdoor furniture, an undercover clothes line anchored in the brickwork and some overgrown grass that needed slashing.

The giggle had returned, joined by what could only be Ben’s laugh. Not that I’d heard it in person before, but I was willing to take a wild guess.

“Where is she?” I heard a whisper.

“I don’t bloody know,” answered Ben. “Get away from the fence.”

“I want to see what she looks like. You can’t be the one having all the fun.”

“Get off the fence!”

“I’m not on the fence.”

“Here, look.”

There was some scratching and churlish laughter at the fence and, quietly, I took the opportunity to scale the fence a bit further along the yard. I did pretty well to avoid their attention and spent the next ten minute watching. The giggle? It belonged to Tom Hiddleston.

“Look, there, you happy?” Ben pulled a piece from the fence.

“You have a peephole? You’re a fucking pervert.”

“It’s not a peephole. It’s just a hole that I fixed. This piece keeps falling out.”

“Your last neighbour wasn’t deserving of a peephole anyway, the old bat.”

“Yeah, well.”

“I can’t see her.”

“No?”

“You want to look?”

“I’m certainly not spying on my neighbour,” Ben guffawed.

“Why would you want to spy when you can come and say hello like a proper English gentleman?” I piped up, sending both of them scuttling back from the fence.

Two little boys, caught with their fingers in a pie.

I moved along the length of the fence, my knuckles white as I held onto the top of it, stopping near both Ben and Tom.

“I was just showing Tom a... uh... hole in the fence.”

“I can see.” I smiled, holding my hand out. “Annabelle Weir, lovely to meet you, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

He leant forward gingerly and shook my hand. “Hello, lovely to meet you. This is Tom.”

“Mr. Hiddleston.” I extended the same courtesy.

“We’ll just get to fixing this hole.” He gestured.

“Yes, well, wouldn’t want foreign objects in wrong holes and such.” I winked and jumped off the fence. “Come past for a tea if you’ve got a few cups spare, won’t you Ben?”

It took all of my being to stifle a maniacal laugh as I listened to Tom choking on his words, and Ben bumbling around, looking for something to say.

“Well, okay, yes, sure. I’ll pop past this afternoon maybe.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I smiled. “See you both soon, no doubt.”

“Lovely to meet you, Annabelle.”

“Wait!” Tom piped up. “As in the author?”

“Correct.” I slid the side door open.

I ran upstairs and spent the next while laughing at the insanity, and the hilarity of the situation. This was already turning out to be a great move on my part.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“What did you do?” Tom asked.

“I left her a gift,” Ben answered.

“You what?”

“I left her a gift on her doorstep.”

“What are you, a fucking cat? Man up and knock on the door,” Tom laughed. “What’d you leave her?”

“Two coffee cups, a coffee plunger and some coffee beans.”

“Are they ground beans or whole beans?”

“Whole, I think.”

“Does she have a grinder?”

“For what?”

“For her beans. A grinder for her beans.”

“Are you talking figuratively or literally.”

“Literally, you goose. A coffee grinder so she can use the coffee in a plunger. Are you awake yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, whole beans will be useless then.”

“Fuck,” Ben sighed. “Honestly. I’m not trying to date her, just be friendly.”

“Sure. Because you look through all your neighbours’ fences, and pay attention to what all your neighbours are wearing. Sure, I get that. I mean, I do it all the time. I mean, just yesterday old Mrs. Worsley next door, phew, you should’a seen the moo-moo she was getting around in. Boy, if I were forty years older, I’d absolutely have a crack.”

“Jesus Tom,”

“No, just Tom will do perfectly fine,” Tom giggled down the line.

“Right, I’m going over there. Hopefully she hasn’t opened her front door yet today.”

“Drop trou!”

“I’m not dropping my trousers!” Ben almost choked on his coffee. “I’ll report back.”

“Roger, roger, ten four,” Tom giggled, hanging up the phone.

\---

It had been a week since I’d moved in, and I hadn’t spotted Ben, or Tom, since. I’m sure they were lurking around somewhere, just a little quieter than the last time. I was still waiting on my container of furniture, due any day, so was excited to hear the front doorbell ring on the Saturday morning.

I was hardly dressed for it, but tied my hair up quickly, threw on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt that I found, and bounded down the stairs, sliding to a stop at the front door. Chain unlatched, lock unbolted, I swung the door open.

“Ben!” That sounded far more surprised than I’d hoped for.

“Annabelle, hi,” he answered, small package in his hands.

“How are you?” I pushed the screen door open, leaning in against the door frame.

“Well, thank you, busy, but good.”

“Good to hear. How’s the fence?”

I watched him turn a familiar shade of crimson. “Very well. I glued that pesky piece back in its spot.”

“Well, how am I going to spy on you and Mr. Hiddleston now?”

“I bought you a welcoming gift.” He pushed the package forward into my hands. I think I’d short circuited his brain.

“You didn’t have to do that, thank you.” I felt a little pang of guilt at the crap I’d just given him. “That’s lovely.”

“Just a coffee plunger, some coffee, some teabags and some cups.”

“The cups are gorgeous.” They were tea cups, and looked like some kind of fine China, baby blue with gold trim. “Thank you. Do you want a coffee?”

Ben looked at his watch. “You know what? May as well, don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours yet.”

“Come on in.” I moved aside to let him through the front door.

He smelled of soap and hot water, one of my favourite smells.

\---

“I got invited in for a ... coffee,” Ben chimed down the line.

“Ooooh, well aren’t you special,” Tom laughed. “She make good coffee?”

“She makes good tea, actually.”

“Well, that’s you sorted then, isn’t it?”

Ben laughed. “Hardly.”

“So, tell me, tell me, give me the gory details.”

“Right, so you worked out she’s an author. She’s moved here recently from... outside of London.”

“So she’s kind of local, that’s good.”

“It is. She’s got a massive advance for her latest novel.”

“She is a good writer,” Tom interjected.

“I haven’t read any of her stuff.”

“I’ll bring one around.”

“So her house is bare. There’s no furniture, there’s a container truck just pulled up outside, I think that’s her furniture arriving now.”

“Well, get the t-shirt off and go out and help her unload the container...”

“I’m not doing that, shit, how desperate do you think I am?”

“Enough to peep through her fence.”

“Man, I’m not living that one down any time soon. She brought it up no less than three times,” Ben chuckled. “I feel like an idiot.”

“In her defence, you’re a bit of a dill when you see hot girls.”

“Well, you know, it’s not like I go out and pick up all the time.”

“Oh please!” Tom argued. “Your rap sheet is comparable to mine. The media just haven’t cottoned on to you, yet.”

“Sure, sure.”

“What else did you talk about?”

“Oh, it’s so lame. I feel like such an idiot. ‘Gee, nice weather’, ‘Wow, your house is so empty’, ‘I like what you’ve done with the colours’.”

“You did not say ‘I like what you’ve done with the colours’,” Tom roared with laughter.

“I did,” Ben groaned. “She laughed, though, she laughed, she said it was her interior decorator monologue, plus the fact that the house came looking like that.”

“Oh hell, I’m going to fall off my chair laughing. Got a restraining order yet?”

“Not yet,” Ben grumbled. “Jesus, tight jeans.”

“Are you in your kitchen again?”

“I am.”

“She look good?”

“Hmmmmm,” Ben’s reply was high pitched and drawn out.

“I’ll be there in ten. I’ll show you how a real pro does it.”

“Well, you are a whore,” Ben retorted.

“Hardly fair, fairly hard,” Tom laughed, closing the phone.

 


	4. Chapter 4

A knock on the front door broke my train of thought. Removalists were walking in and out, so I wasn’t expecting them to knock every time they wanted to walk through the door. I finished directing the guys with the bed upstairs and made for the front door.

Jeans that were too tight to be good for anyone’s heart health, polished boots, belt and buckle, baby blue shirt with the first few buttons undone. His sleeves were rolled up, showing some lovely forearm muscles as he leaned into the door frame and folded his arms.

“Fancy that.” I smiled as I walked towards the door.

“Ms. Weir, how are you?”

“Very well, sir, thank you for your enquiry. What brings you out into the sunlight today?”

“Oh, I was just walking past and noticed the container, thought you might... need a hand.”

“You good with one hand, or do you use two?” I smirked.

“Depends on the task at hand.”

“Well.” I stood up straight. “I think the boys are currently unloading my bedroom furniture.”

His eyes lit up like dinner plates.

“So, you’re welcome to help,” I continued.

“I can do that.”

“I’m curious, though.”

“About what?”

“You need all those buttons undone to lift furniture, or is it just an aesthetic thing?”

“Please Ms. Weir, what do you take me for?”

“The town bicycle,” I answered.

“Oh, rough!”

I laughed, watching him disappear quickly to find whoever had the sheer luck of being in charge of bedroom furniture. Stifling a giggle at his ‘eagerness’ to help, I took a glass of water and disappeared into the background and out into my backyard area.

Muttered curse words got my attention.

“You’re a fucking lunatic.” It was Ben.

I scaled the fence. “Hey Cumberbitch, what’s going on?”

“Oh Jesus, Annabelle.” He jumped. “You scared me.”

“Yeah, I tend to have that affect.”

“How are you?” I asked.

“Good. Did you send your boyfriend over here, or is this all his hair-brained idea?”

“That’s all on him. I told him, I said to leave you alone -.”

“No, that’s okay. Should I work him into the ground then?”

Ben laughed, relaxing. “Yes, please do.”

“Would it be cruel or funny if I ran him ragged and then kicked him out?”

“It would be both.” He smiled.

“Who’re you texting?”

“That moron in your bedroom right now.”

I laughed. “Yeah, he thinks it’s the bedroom. It’s the spare.”

Ben laughed, “You are terrible.”

“Did he come with a packed lunch?”

Ben’s face screwed up. “I think he’s hoping for lunch.”

“Yeah, not happening. I’m not that nice.”

“So, you’re a writer?”

“I try to be.”

“Come on, you’ve sold a few copies I imagine?”

“One or two.”

“Do you have any spares? I’d love to have a look when I’ve got some free time.”

“Do you actors have much free time?”

“Not as much as boy wonder, but a bit.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

I retreated back into the main house and kept up with the removalists. I was excited at the prospect that I’d have something more than a bar fridge to operate from now. Tom was _ever_ so attentive and did his best to help out, working up a fair sweat in the process.

“So, ah, what’s plans for tonight?” Tom leaned against my kitchen counter and helped himself to a glass of water.

“Well, tonight I was thinking of sacrificing some small children or animals to the writing Gods, smearing myself in blood and running naked down the street.”

“Can you let me know when the naked part starts, so I can be ready with the popcorn?”

I loved that he hadn’t blinked an eyelid at the rest of the sentence, except the naked part.

“Actually, I’ll probably just start unpacking some stuff if I can be bothered. I need to make some notes for my next book. So, in all reality, I’ll probably be in my pyjamas, surfing the internet and procrastinating.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed.

“Bye, Tom.” I teased.

“Right, sure, okay.”

“Thank you, and thank your arms for their help today.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled, still glued to the same spot on the floor.

“Bye, Tom,” I repeated.

“Sorry, yes, going now. Bye, Annabelle.”

The first thing I did was move everything into its place in the bedroom; King bed, bedside tables, lamps with new globes, and fresh new bed sheets. I’d been looking forward to this moment all week, it’s amazing how you miss your own bed when you don’t have access to it.

Hot and sweaty, I showered and changed into some yoga pants and a t-shirt, ready to settle in for a night of writing when I heard some tinkering at the window.

\---

“Don’t throw rocks at her window, your name isn’t Romeo,” Ben hissed.

“Yes it is,” Tom whispered. “What do you think she’s doing?”

“Minding her own business. Much like you should be doing.”

“I want her to come to Rooftop Charades, though.”

“Oh, and you think she wants to be your date?” Ben baulked. “This is great.”

“Well, you don’t have the balls to ask her, so I will.”

“Throwing rocks at her window is not asking her out.”

“Well go on, ‘fraidy cat, go over and ask her,” Tom challenged.

“Maybe I will.”

Ben mounted the fence and climbed over into the backyard.

“Go stalker, get in the backyard,” Tom giggled.

“I’m going to knock on her back door.”

“Oh, I heard that about you.”

“Fucking hell,” Ben grumbled, walking towards the sliding door.

\---

I could see Ben walking across the backyard, helping himself over the back fence and into my yard. Was I disturbed? Well, I’ll admit it was a little odd, but I knew enough to know he wouldn’t have meant any harm.

I crept down the stairs, Ben having knocked on the sliding door and let himself in. Through the kitchen and into the sitting room, it was excellent. A great opportunity to scare the daylights out of him.

“Annabelle, you ‘round?”

“Oi, what are you doing? You can’t just walk in!” Tom called.

The last few steps were skipped quickly and I stood behind the kitchen counter. Taking a quick look around the bottom floor, Ben turned to see me watching him and it scared the life out of me. If I remember correctly, he screamed and fell over, and I doubled over in laughter.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t snooping, I just -.” He pointed to the back fence, where Tom could be heard laughing.

“It’s okay,” I assured him.

“No, no it’s not okay, I was in your house. I feel terrible.”

“Ben, it’s fine. Really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, no, but yes. It’s cool. I’m cool.”

“Yes, yes you are.”

I looked at him, waiting for him to get to whatever point brought him over the fence to begin with.

“Charades!” Tom shouted.

“Oh!” Ben clicked his fingers. “I’ve got some friends coming tonight. Beer, pizza, charades, are you in?”

“In what?” I teased.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, am I in, would I like to play?”

“Yes, would you like to play charades?”

“That’s a bit fucking rich, Cumberbitch.”

“What?”

“You’ve just asked me to play Charades with a group of actors, or who I presume will be a group of actors. Clearly I’m not going to win anything.”

“That’s not the point. we just have a bit of fun.”

“Are you having fun right now?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you having fun right now?” I repeated.

“Uhhh....,” his voice drawled. “Yesssss.”

I decided then that I quite liked listening to his voice.

“Alright. Good. What time?” I asked. 

“Now? Now would be good.”

“Okay, let me just pack up and lock up and I’ll see you shortly.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is that some competition I see before me? Ben? Tom? Hmmmm...

“How did you get in here?” Ben looked at me, shocked that I’d be letting myself through his kitchen door.

“I climbed the fence. I figured that’s how we do things around here? Worked for you...”

“You climbed the fence with a bottle of wine in your hand?”

“I did, and you better not have invited me over for some weird arse threesome.”

“Christ, okay, alright,” he sighed deeply. “Annabelle is my new neighbour, she’s an author. Annabelle this is everyone,” Ben continued.

I looked around to see a room full of people, some of whom I’d seen in tabloids or, in Tom’s case, in my house, and some that weren’t so familiar. Well, that was embarrassing.

“Guess there’s no threesome, then.”

“Oh, we can still organise that,” Tom giggled.

“Can I just go climb the fence and start again?” I pointed back towards my backyard, the living room lights still on. “And do you live here?” I looked at Tom.

“I could if you wanted me to.”

I made sure to move around the terrace during the night, keen to at least pick up a few new friends in the neighbourhood, a few people to drink wine with on a Saturday night never hurt anyone.

“So, what is it you write?” Adam asked.

“A bit of this, a bit of that. I like to mix it up, keep my publisher on their toes. The novel I’m working on at the moment is a bit of a thriller, bit of a romance.”

“I’ll have to check out one of your books. I’ve seen them in the shop, but never picked them up.”

“I can absolutely recommend picking them up,” I laughed. “I need people to pick them up, actually.”

I leaned forward into the table and mulled over which wine to pick up next. In the end, it hardly mattered. A steady supply of nibbles, washed down with some choice alcohol meant the rest of my night was wildly funny, if not a little fuzzy.

“So, what’s it like living next to the internet’s boyfriend?” Adam quizzed me a little later on.

“Oh God, where do I begin?” I over animated. “He’s just so dreamy, and handsome, and polite, and everything that Tumblr makes him out to be.”

Ben went bright red.

“I mean, honestly. I’m living the Tumblr wet dream right now. I’ve got Hiddles and Batch at my beck and call. Well, maybe not back and call, but they certainly have made their presence felt,” I giggled. “I don’t even know where Tom comes from half the time, he’s just... there.”

“The Tumblr wet dream,” another nameless face piped up. “How do you feel about that, Baby Carrot?”

“Baby Carrot? That’s not very nice.” I almost spat up the wine in my mouth. “Where did that come from?”

“That’s a Tumblr throw back,” Tom laughed.

“What a horrible thing to say,” I sobered up. “Talk about body shaming of vegetables.”

The room was quiet. I was clearly lost.

“Well, like, carrots being carrots, they just need soil to grow in. You get the wrong soil, the carrot doesn’t grow so much. Give it the right soil and love, and nurturing, you can have a whole field of them.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Tom asked.

“Enough.” I slumped back into the couch. “I’m very sleepy right now actually.”

My deductions about baby carrots, as I found out later on, were completely off course, and had more to do with male anatomy than orange, edible vegetables and their growing conditions.

I woke up the following morning with a blanket over the top of me and a pillow under my head. I was on a couch, and I wasn’t inside my own home.

“Is she still sleeping?” Tom whispered.

“What are you doing here?” Ben snapped.

“Is she asleep?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Why are you here?”

“I want to laugh at the drunk lady. Do you think she remembers anything?”

“Go away. That’s not nice.”

“Ohhh. I sense something going on here. Someone defends your Baby Carrot and you’re ready to put a ring on it.”

“Spare me,” Ben groaned. “Honestly, way to make me look completely incompetent in front of a woman.”

I was busting for the loo, but lay there listening to Abbot and Costello work on their comedy routine. I lifted my head from the pillow and had enough of a view down the front hall that I could see Ben at the front door in the world’s oldest sweatpants and t-shirt, a head full of bed hair and bare feet.

“So she’s still here?”

“What?”

“Is she still inside your house?”

“Yes. She. Is. Still. Inside. My. House.”

“Can I come in?”

“Like the word no is going to stop you.”

I buried my face in the pillow and waited.

“Why are you dressed up? It’s just gone nine on a Sunday morning.”

“Dress to impress, dress to impress,” Tom’s voice was hushed, but I could hear the clack of his shoes as he came around near the couch.

That feeling you get when you know someone’s hovering over you? I was having it.

“She’s cute,”

“Leave her be,” Ben whispered.

“You mean leave her for you, or don’t poke the sleeping bear?”

“Both!”

“Oh, so you admit it! You have a crush on her!”

“Shhhh! Come outside.” He slid the kitchen door open.

“Awww, look, you’ve left her some Panadol and a glass of water. You’re so sweet I could get a cavity,” Tom teased.

“What would you do, Bicycle? Just give her a cab fare home?”

“Oh no, I’d invite her to stay another night, please,” Tom answered. “Plus, she lives around the corner, she could totally walk.”

Ben laughed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, just on my way out to go do a few things and thought I’d stop by, see how you were both doing.”

“Okay, well, you’ve stopped by, made a complete fool of me last night, thanks for that by the way, and now you can go.”

“Are you cranky at me?”

“No, I just don’t want you to wake Annabelle up.”

“Such a caring boyfriend you are,” Tom whispered walking back through the kitchen and towards the front door. “See you soon.”

“No worries.”

The minute he was gone, I up and scuttled to the bathroom, much to Ben’s surprise.

“You were awake for that?”

“Yep.” I locked myself in the room for a minute, returning to a boiled kettle and two tea cups. “Does he have his own home? Or is he like the village dog? He just wanders around and people take pity on him and feed him, he sleeps wherever he lands?”

“You’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise. I’m told there’s dinner at his place next week if you’re keen on going?”

“Oh shit yes, I need to see that he actually owns his own house with my own eyes.”

“Listen,” Ben started nervously, passing a cup of tea over the bench.

“Listening.”

“You want to go somewhere and get breakfast?”

“Do I ever. I need something to settle my stomach. Shower first, though, yes?”

“Huh?” his eyes widened.

“I need to go back to my house and have a shower. My mouth feels like I’ve eaten a fist full of sand.”

“Oh right, sure.”

“And can you do me a favour?”

“I guess, sure.”

“Put a gate in this fence? If you’re going to jump into my yard, and I’m going to jump into yours, just get a gate put in, yeah?”

“Really? I’ve never had a neighbour suggest that before.”

“It’ll make my life, and Tom’s espionage easier.”

“Tom’s espionage,” Ben laughed. “He would be rapt to hear that.”

“Right, well. I’m going to go home and return to a humanoid state. I’ll pick you up in about thirty?”

“Sounds good.” Ben smiled. “I’ll go do my hair.”

“You do that,” I teased. "But go easy on the make up, okay?"

All I heard as I jumped back over the fence was the sound of Ben's laughter, and it was beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

“So tell me what it’s like inside Camp Batch?” Annabelle dumped a sugar in her coffee and picked up a spoon to stir it in.

“At the moment? Pure insanity.”

“What’s happening at the moment?”

“Got a movie due out shortly. The press are talking about award season buzz, but, you know.” Ben waved his hand about. “Whatever happens, happens. I’m just happy to get the story out there.”

“That’s good, though. Awards are a good recognition.”

“They are, they are, but they shouldn’t be the be all and end all, should they?” Ben himself seemed unsure of whether he actually wanted an answer to that.

“So, you’ll be all over the shop promoting things, then?”

“Yeah, and I’m trying to fit in filming something else at the moment, too, so that’s kind of keeping my bag full at the moment, too. They’ve been good, though, trying to fit things around promo schedules and stuff. This weekend was the first I’d had free in ages, so it was nice to relax.”

“It was a good night, actually. The best I’ve had in a while.” Annabelle smiled. “Even if some of it’s a bit furry.”

“Trust me, it’s furry for everyone,” Ben offered. “How about you, what’s the life of an author like? I put your name into Google this morning, good reviews.”

“Thank you.” Annabelle’s eyes smiled more than her mouth. “Well, for me, you’ll be totally jealous. After we’ve finished at breakfast, I’m going home and changing back into my pyjamas, then I’m going to put some music on, make myself a pot of tea and start writing. I’ll probably be there until two or three in the morning. Copy and paste into the next day.”

“I thought I was the only one that kept strange hours?”

“No, not just you. Why so late for you?” Annabelle asked.

“Just by the time I get home, wind down, shower, do normal house stuff that people do, it gets a bit late sometimes.”

“Well, if the light is ever on, I’ll pop over the fence for a coffee.”

“I’d like that.”

xxx

I let Ben prattle on. It felt like he needed to unload, so I gave him free reign while he talked about publicists, directors, other actors, friends, family, workload, the press (which came after a photographer snapped a photo).

“I am so sorry about that.”

“I’m not bothered. Are we doing something wrong?” I asked.

“Well, no.” Ben shook his head. “But, just, the invasion of privacy.”

“Right now I could do with the book sales.” I shrugged. “It’s okay. I know the truth, you know the truth, everything else is just interpretation isn’t it?”

“Sounds like the tag line for a book,” he joked.

I sat up straight. “Could very well be, let me scribble that down while it’s fresh in my mind.”

“Ever thought about screenplays?”

“I have, though I’m not sure I have a full idea for a film.”

“Let me know if you do, I’d be keen to look over it.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

xxx

Following breakfast, it would be another week before I spotted Ben, or young Thomas, again. Ben had been in and out filming and I was busy enjoying the pyjama life and writing, in between a couple of meetings with publishers and a book signing in central London.

The book signing was at lunch time Friday, just in time to catch lunch time shoppers, and held at Foyles on Charing Cross Road. I loved seeing people turn up and chatting to them about different characters they identified with, ones they didn’t like so much. A character from my own life turned up at the end of the queue. Dressed ready for a business meeting in a grey suit and vest, a white shirt, and shoes so polished you could eat you lunch off of them.

Tom.

“Good afternoon, you spritely thing,” I teased.

“Hello Miss, I’m such a fan of your work,” he teased before breaking into the most evil laugh I’d ever heard.

I couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Are you serious? You want a book signed?”

“Oh yes, very serious. You characters, they are so beautiful, like a rose in full bloom.”

“Thomas.” I looked at him.

“Yes.”

“I know you aren’t talking about... characters.”

“Of course I am, who do you take me for? The Marquis de Sade?”

“Do I need to answer?” I scrawled my name in the front of his book.

“Put a love heart in there...”

“What?” I laughed.

“Love heart. Make it happen. Go on.”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.” I opened his book again, only to scrawl _“TWH, I love you so much it makes my heart ache, though I think that might just be heartburn...”_

The mother and daughter in the queue behind him looked ready to drop dead at the notion I’d just called Tom Hiddleston an idiot. Out loud, and in public.

“See you tomorrow, then?” he asked.

“Yeah, be there about six.” I pushed his book to the side and started talking to the people in line after him.

“Bye!” he called out as he walked away, leaving me shaking my head.

“You know him?” the young girl asked.

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” I smiled. “What’s your name?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet chapter at the moment, by comparison. 
> 
> It might look like there's nothing happening, but look closer! 
> 
> *whispers* come closer! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone that's left kudos and comments so far, I love that you're having fun with this because I am too. 
> 
> Keep them coming! xo

I had the window open just enough for some fresh air to whip its way around my small study. I’d been writing for the better part of twelve hours and was ready for some sleep, or rest, or coffee. Yeah, coffee would have been good. The familiar sound of feet clanging on Ben’s side of the fence began, followed by a shuffle, a curse word, the thud into a rustling bush, and more curse words. I’d just listened to Ben fall over the fence and into my garden, at 2:00 a.m. no less.

My head swung around quickly to see him pulling himself out of the bush and straightening up before doing his best to disguise a limp up to the back door, a soft knock accompanying it.

“I hope you don’t mind, I dressed up for the occasion.” I unlocked the back door and let him through.

“Good, I’m glad.” He hobbled through the door.

“You okay?”

“Yep, just... took a tumble over the fence.” Ben winced as he sat down.

“Did you get... anything... stuck?”

“No, thank fuck for that.”

“Good thing too. I mean I’d hate to have to call you Jammy Todger for it.”

Ben snorted, unable to hide his laughter, which gave me more of a chuckle than I thought it would.

“Tea or coffee?”

“Just something cold, I need to go to bed. Why are you still awake?”

“Still writing, bit brain dead at the moment, though. Where have you been that brings you out so late?”

“Filming.”

“What’re you filming?”

“Just started back on Sherlock.”

“Oh good. I like Sherlock. That explains the hair.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

I rifled through the pantry, a keen eye kept on Ben, who was busy rubbernecking around.

“You haven’t unpacked much.”

“I don’t need much.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About a month, I think?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Here’s the thing, Cumberbitch,” I started, the mere mention of ‘Cumberbitch’ making his eyes roll back into his head, “you’ll learn that all I need is a laptop, some clean clothes and a pot of tea. I write, I drink tea, I eat... you know. No fuss.”

“Just throw some food at your occasionally?”

I shrugged. “That works.”

“How’s your week been?” He followed me into the lounge and stretched out on the couch opposite the one I sat on.

“Good, just writing. I did a book signing today. Bloody Hiddleston turned up,” I chuckled. “Wanted me to sign a book for him, complete with love hearts.”

Ben laughed. “What’d you write in his book?”

“I wrote that I loved him so much my heart ached, but that it could’ve just been heartburn.”

He laughed wildly, carefree, his eyes wrinkling up and teeth sparkling. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

“Don’t say anything, just wait and see if he says anything at dinner tonight.”

“Shit, I forgot about that.”

“You better still be coming, I don’t want to go alone.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend to bring?”

I rolled my eyes. “Subtlety is not your specialty, is it?”

“Just a question.”

“I’m single,” I answered. “No boyfriend. Was engaged last year. You could probably read all about it online. The truth and the lies, split it somewhere down the middle.”

“I don’t want to Google you when you’re sitting right here. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Maybe another time,” I offered. “What about you? Where’s your number one?”

“Nah, don’t have one of them either.”

“You know I have a Tumblr, so, you know, I know about these things.”

“Oh you’ve mentioned that a few times.” Ben smiled. “Just didn’t work out last time, with Olivia, just ran its course.”

“I don’t need the gory details. It’s not my business. Plus Mum would be loving going to awards shows.”

“That she does.” Ben smiled.

xxx

Silence descended in the lounge as Annabelle switched the television on to the new channel. Her arm slung over the back of the couch, she rested her head for only a second and was asleep.

Ben crept out shortly afterwards, a note scribbled on the whiteboard in the study.

 _“Pick you up at 5, be ready.”_ Followed by his phone number.

This time, to save himself the pain, Ben used the front door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the kudo and comments so far, the response has been spectacular. 
> 
> But, do keep them coming, I love the feedback. 
> 
> And I know the last few chapters have been a little... quiet, but things are about to get busy, so stick around, subscribe, keep coming back :) 
> 
> xo

**_“Annabelle breaks the Weir”- Reporter: Jamie Long_ **

FRIDAY – Sources close to actor Benedict Cumberbatch have stated that the actor is ‘smitten’ with his new neighbour, author Annabelle Weir. The pair have recently been spotted brunching together in the Soho district, following a night of partying designed to introduce Annabelle to his ‘inner circle’.

A successful artist in her own right, Annabelle is the author of fifteen novels including _Blue on Black_ , _Say Yes,_ and her latest release _Under Coventry Stars_ , and has sold in excess of ten million books worldwide.

It has also been revealed that, since moving into his neighbourhood, Annabelle had been pursued by a close friend, but opted to stick with the _Sherlock_ star instead. Will we soon be solving the Case of the Elongated Bachelorhood, Mr. Cumberbatch?

 @@@

Annabelle sat down at the outdoor setting at Tom’s, all eyes set squarely on her and Ben since they’d arrived.

“Well, that explains that, then,” she mumbled.

“Explains what?” Ben looked at her.

“Fifty thousand new twitter followers today, ten thousand book sales before lunch, countless notifications and an explosion over on Facebook, phone calls from parents to, quote, ‘see how you’re settling in’, and about twenty girlfriends who have all invited themselves around next Saturday night for a tea party under the guise of a house warming. .”

“Ten thousand copies?” Tom chuckled. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean I joked about it at lunch the other day, but I wasn’t serious.”

“You’ll get that,” James piped up. “It’s a lovely... side effect of Ben.”

“I don’t want to be friends with him just for book sales, though. I want to sell on my own merit. If they’re good, they’ll sell. I don’t ride coat tails, and I don’t associate with people simply because of what I might gain from it.” Annabelle stopped, realising she might have snapped a bit more than she intended to.

“They seem to know a hell of a lot of what’s not going on,” Ben commented.

“The Case of the Elongated Bachelorhood,” Annabelle laughed. “I’m going to keep that article.” She took the page from the paper, folded it carefully and placed it in her jacket pocket. “I think that’s my first bit of scandalous media coverage.”

“You’re about to feel the scorn and wrath of a million teenage girls now,” Jane piped up.

“Well,” Annabelle drawled, “so long as they keep buying books, I don’t mind so much.”

“Any truth to it?” James asked.

“No,” they answered in unison, to the laughter of everyone in attendance.

“There’s the first denial,” Tom teased. “Two more and that makes you a couple.”

“Right, okay, whatever,” Ben dismissed.

“I wouldn’t mind knowing who sold us out, though?” Annabelle watched as Ben sat back down next to her, a drink for both of them.

“It’s all pretty general stuff. I mean, anyone that drove past my place that night would know we were having a get together. The rest is just speculation,” Ben dismissed.

“Can I come?” Tom asked. 

“What?” Annabelle looked up at him.

“To your tea party, can I come?”

“You going to dress up as Loki?”

“I guess I could.”

“So, who’s the close friend pursuer?” Chris asked.

Ben looked at Tom, who went a shade of scarlet normally reserved for beetroots.

“Oh God, that’s an ugly triangle.”

“There is no triangle.” Ben rolled his eyes. “There isn’t even a square or a circle, or an oblong, or any shape.”

xxx

My house was overrun the following weekend with twenty of my nearest and dearest, and some of whom I hadn’t seen in close to twelve months but I guess newspaper reports will draw people from their shells.

Ben had been busy, and so had I. He was busy filming, and I had been busy trying to contain the madness that had become social media for me in the past few days. Sure, it had been something I was familiar with, and had a decent enough following of readers, but the madness that came with being associated with Ben was just phenomenal. I’d heard of ‘The Cumberbatch Effect’ before, but hadn’t thought anything of it. My week had proven that it did, in fact, exist.

On the Thursday, Ben had called to let me know a fencing contractor was on his way around to put a small gate in between our two properties. I was surprised that he’d taken it seriously and, therefore, gone and hired someone. Either way, I got the bus into town, did some groceries and pulled some money out of the bank to give him next time I saw him, figuring it was only fair to split the cost of the gate.

I’d spent the Friday night cooking, knocking back an invite from Tom to go to the theatre, and ended up with my parents over instead. Their questions were no different to the ones I got the following afternoon.

“So, what’s happening?” Michelle smiled.

“Nothing.” I shook my head and pulled a face. “Just settling in, unpacking still, because I’m lazy.”

“How’s the neighbours?”

“Neighbours are good, they’re great,” I confirmed. I only know the ones on this side so far, the others I haven’t met yet.”

“Is that Benedict’s house?”

What was I supposed to say to that? “Well, yeah.”

“Can we go look?”

“No you absolutely cannot,” I baulked. “Not at all.”

xxx

“All I can hear is giggling and questions about me,” Ben whispered down the line.

“So go over there, tiger. I’m just about to leave my place.”

“I’m not a performing monkey,” he grumbled.

“Is she selling you out?”

“No, she’s just told them they can’t come over. They all want to come over here.”

Tom giggled down the line. “Is it like the cream of the crop? Or are they all librarian types?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see that well.”

“Does Annie look good?”

“Annabelle,” Ben corrected her. “Yes she does.”

xxx

I finally managed to control the girls and get them to calm down.

“Now, you need to shut up because I’m about to go out there and see if anyone is there. If he’s not home, he can’t come over.”

I traipsed across the backyard quietly, mutterings and murmurs floating across the fence.

“Are they braiding hair?”

“I don’t know!” Ben was exasperated. “Go and ask.”

“Pillow fights, maybe. There’s heaps of them.”

“Yep, I’ll bet they’re all waiting for us to turn up so they can put the pyjamas on and roll around on the floor.”

“Should I knock on the front door or backdoor?” Tom giggled. “Maybe I’ll use The Gate of Power.”

“You can’t use that before we do, that’s hardly fair.”

“Ohhh,” Tom teased. “So it’s ‘Our Gate’ now.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I nearly turned myself into a eunuch the other night, so it’s kind of a necessity.”

“Eunch? How?” Tom was in hysterics.

“Oh, I climbed the fence too late at night.”

“How late?”

“Like two in the morning late.”

“What were you doing coming over at 2 a.m.?”

“We had a cup of tea.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Well, I saw the light on, I went over. We had a drink, she fell asleep...”

“Story of your life, mate.”

I swung the gate open quickly. My two boys, with their fingers in the pie again.

“Jammie Todger Eunuch, make like you’re not home otherwise you’re about to get trampled. You, if you’re coming to party, come and party, otherwise make like a magician and disappear.” I stopped. “What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

Tom’s hair was black and long, quite different to the blonde curls I’d seen him in a week earlier.

“Uh, Avengers?”

“Oh, right, sure. Loki and his sceptre.”

“You know it,” he laughed. “I can organise a private viewing if you like?”

“No, no I don’t like. Are you coming, or what?”

“Can I?” Tom reached out to grab me, only to be stopped by Ben. “Oh hello, are we pissing on personal belongings now?”

“Behave,” Ben warned him.

“Come on, Tom Cat, I’ll find you someone to take home. See ya, ‘Bitch.”

“See ya, Annabelle. Lunch soon?”

“Yep. Let me know when you’re free.” I pulled the gate shut behind me, to find Tom walking, arms open wide into a room full of twenty women.

Holy Moly, and it was only the beginning of the night.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine chapters in, I figure I needed to get to the action, right? 
> 
> Keep clicking the kudos button!

“I’m not sure who he went home with,” I answered, reclining on a banana lounge in my backyard.

Ben walked across the yard to me, handing me a can of cola and taking the lounge next to me. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

“Probably still having sex.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “How’s your week been?”

“It’s been a busy week. A fifty thousand word week, my brain is exhausted, but I’m glad because that’s just on half the first draft, I guess.”

“Wow, really? You churn them out that quickly?”

“Hardly,” I laughed. “The first fifty thousand took about four weeks.”

“Still.” He hitched his knees up.

“How was your week?” I asked. 

“Exhausting. I’m going to have a heap of travel coming up and I’m not keen.”

“No?”

“Nope. I don’t know why we have to go up and back and up and back to America to do interviews.” His hands waved around to demonstrate I don't know, planes perhaps, as he spoke. 

“Especially when you have to answer the same questions.”

“Exactly,” Ben agreed. “See, you get it.”

“I do. I did an interview this week for the Sunday Times or something like that,” I dismissed with a wave of the hand. “You know all they wanted to know about?”

“What?”

“You.” I looked at him.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” I started. “It’s not your fault. It’s the nature of the beast. You eat lunch with someone and suddenly you’re tabloid fodder.”

The side gate crept open to reveal Tom.

“Look at you two cats!” he chuckled.

“Can I ask you something quickly?” Ben suddenly sat up straight.

“Of course.”

“Hey, I have a question for you, too,” Tom said.

“Just a second, Bicycle.” I held a hand up to stop him speaking. “Are you okay?”

“Can we go inside? You and me?”

“Yeah, sure, if you want.”

xxx

“Are you sure?”

Ben felt weak at the knees, expecting her to say something like that. In fact, he’d expected a flat out ‘no’. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What about Mumma Wanda?”

“Her and Dad will be away at the time.”

“Right, okay. And you have no one else? No one you’re dating that you want to take?”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Ben replied.

“And he’s going to ask me, too, isn’t he?” Annabelle pointed to Tom, still outside and dancing to something on his iPod. “Is that some weird mating thing?” she whispered.

“Fucking hell,” Ben laughed. “Look, it’s up to you, you can go either way.”

“No, no, don’t just dismiss it. Would you like me to go with you?”

“That’s kind of why I asked.”

“Well, okay then. I’ll go to the Britannia’s with you, then.”

“They’re in LA.”

“Good thing little ol’ me has procured a passport in her lifetime, then, hey?” Annabelle pinched Ben’s cheek. “Does this mean I need to wear something other than pyjamas?”

“Sadly, yes. I mean, for me, they’re perfectly fine, I’m sure even Tom would get a kick out of it, but we do need to... present ourselves properly.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Annabelle agreed. “Easy.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears the last few chapters have been a bit lengthy... sorry about that! 
> 
> Please feel free to leave questions, comments, kudos, etc.

Shit.

I was going to the Britannia’s.

I needed a dress.

I needed style.

I needed class.

I had none.

None of the above.

I wrote books in my pyjamas and got paid to do it.

Nothing prepared me for the night that was to come. In the lead up, Ben checked in constantly, and Tom has disappeared after I’d told him I wouldn’t be going with him. I’d stopped in to Ben’s PR agency during the week to speak to Karon, who was going to organise a dress.

Designer clothes? Me? I was lucky to pay £3 for a pair of knickers at the best of times, my jeans were about three years old, and my sneakers even older. Yet, here I was looking at the prospect of designer clothes.

We landed in LA and managed to sneak through the airport pretty quietly. I was surprised, though to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was expecting. All the while we continued chatting just as we normally did. We had adjoining hotel rooms, and were greeted by photographers as we arrived at the hotel.

The whole environment was so surreal and quite frightening, really.

“Ben!” I called after him as he walked ahead.

He turned back to me quickly, fishing me out of a sea of photographers and pulling me into the hotel by the hand.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Thanks, all good, just a bit overwhelming. Where’s our luggage?”

“It’s coming. It’ll be upstairs soon.”

I chose to watch a bit of television and ended up asleep not long after arriving at the hotel anyway, woken up by a shove on the shoulder later on that night.

“You hungry?”

“What?” I grumbled.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner?”

“Go away.” I curled up in the bed covers and hid my head.

“Are you sure? Because I’m about to go out and find something really tasty for dinner and, you know, that’ll mean you miss out.”

“Have you heard from Tom?” I asked.

“He’s landed. Why are you worried about him?”

“I’m not worried,” I answered. “Well, maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, I’ve kinda got in the middle here, haven’t I?”

“Middle of what?”

“You and him.”

“Hardly,” Ben dismissed. “Japanese?”

“I’m English actually, but thanks.” I popped an eye open to check his reaction.

Ben chuckled. “To eat, to eat, do you want to go out and get some Japanese?”

“It’s late.”

“Yeah, and?”

xxx

And that was an issue because we had an early morning wake up the next morning. I heard a ruckus coming from the next room, Ben’s room, laughing and giggling and what not. I had a headache, too much sake.

Still in my pyjamas, I picked my phone up and checked it with bleary eyes, pulling the door to the adjoining rooms open as I went.

“Of course you would have to be the source of the noise,” I croaked, seeing Tom walking around in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he chirped. “You had breakfast?”

“No,” I grumped.

“Want breakfast?”

“Not right now. I want to go back to sleep.” I rubbed my face and disappeared back into my room.

“She’s cute,” Tom laughed. “What do you think she’s doing in there?”

“I’ve ordered her some cabana boys as a thank-you.”

“What? Why didn’t you say something. I’m a boy, with a cabana, I’ll help her out.”

“I was joking,” Ben stressed. “She’s probably sleeping, or trying to.”

The adjoining door swung open and Tweedledee and Tweedledum came tumbling through. I crawled under the covers of my bed and hoped that, if I couldn’t see them, they weren’t there.

“Hey.” I popped my head out of the covers again, remembering a question for Tom. “Who did you go home with the other night?”

“Me?” Tom busied himself making a coffee.

“No, your mum. Yes you.”

“Umm...,” his voice trailed off. “Michelle?”

“Right, okay. Is she here with you?”

“Nooooo.”

“Who are you bringing tonight?” I asked.

“My mum.”

“Oh your mum, that’s so cute.”

I sat up and surveyed the room around me. Ben was wandering around in his own hotel room, Tom was making a coffee in mine, and I was still in my pyjamas in bed. It really was the strangest situation.

“Hey, Annabelle, I have a luncheon to go to today. Are you coming along?” Ben’s head popped in the door.

I frowned. “Luncheon?”

“Yeah it’s like a pre awards thing,” Tom offered.

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Can I stay back here and write?”

That’s what I did. I stayed back and did some editing in my hotel room until it was time to get ready. Poked, prodded, tweezed, sprayed, pushed into my dress (an Audrey Hepburn style black number, thank you), war paint (makeup) applied and we were being pushed out the door, worked to a schedule and into a limousine.

It hadn’t even occurred to me that I would have to do the red carpet. I know, I know, call me stupid, but in all the getting ready and agreeing to come along to fill a seat, it never once made me think that I would have to walk a red carpet of some description.

Ben stepped out of the car first, offering his hand to help me out. Dress flattened out he gave me a quick run down of what was going to happen.

“You do realise this is going to melt the internet?” I looked at him. “True or not, people are only going to draw only one conclusion from this.”

“I don’t care if they draw so much their name’s Picasso,” he answered. “Now, I’m going to hold your hand so I don’t lose you, is that okay?”

“Look at all the people...,” my voice trailed off as I looked over to the waiting bank of photographers.

“Earth to Annabelle.”

“Sorry, yes, that’s fine.” I nodded. “I have my purse, do you need me to carry anything?”

“No, no, all good. Let’s go.”

We stepped up onto the curb in time to see Tom’s vehicle turn up and watch him race around to open the car door for his mum.

“He’s just disgusting, isn’t he?” I looked at Ben.

“You’ve got no idea.”

He held his hand out for me, and I took it tightly, only to find Tom watching us, a look of dejection crossing his face. I felt terrible. You could see that the happy go lucky chap that invited himself around constantly was suddenly feeling like the third, unwanted wheel of a friendship. One that I’d walked straight into the middle of.

“I feel terrible,” I leaned in close and whispered as we stepped onto the red carpet.

“Not now, we’ll talk, but later, okay?”

“Of course.” I nodded.

“Just follow me...,”

From then on in I was guided along the red carpet, look left, look right, up down, smile, smile, smile. All the while, Ben’s hand had slipped out of mine and around my middle. It was so many levels of strange. And comfortable.

“If I smile some more, my face might break,” I laughed, looking at Ben, my hand around his back, resting on his hip.

“You’re doing fine. Are you okay?”

“Is there a correct answer to that?”

“Ehhh, maybe. Here comes Tom.” He nodded as Tom and his mum walked up behind us.

The laughter and talking continued as we found a comfortable spot in front of the cameras, Ben walking away to talk to a few reporters while I shuffled off with my ticket through the door to find my seat.

“They certainly like you.” Ben smiled, sitting down next to me.

“Me? What did I do?” I laughed as he handed me a drink.

“Turned up tonight, apparently.”

“Oh hell.”

People often say that sitting through an awards ceremony is horrid, boring, long, drawn out, but this wasn’t so bad. I guess you can call it naivety in that I hadn’t been to one before, so everything was new and exciting. I couldn’t find Tom for most of the night, and that still bugged me.

Regardless, I had the rest of the night to get through and an excited tap on the leg when Ben’s nomination was read out lead to hand holding and leg stroking. Offended? Hardly. Excited? Absolutely.

When the ceremony was over, I made a beeline for Tom.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of everyone's sanity, I'm going to skip over a large chunk that I had planned... and get straight down to business. Enjoy!

Ben watched Annabelle ran off, finding Tom in the midst of a sea of people. They talked animatedly, quietly, their faces betraying more than both of them realised.

“Tom.” Annabelle asked. “Tom, stop.”

“Hey Annabelle.” He pretended he hadn’t seen her scooting towards him in the crowd.

“Tom, are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows at him. “Want to try that again, but start with the truth this time?”

“I’m okay. You both looked really happy tonight.”

“We’re not together,” Annabelle offered.

“Tell that to the rest of the world, hey?”

They stood still, looking at each other as Ben caught up to them. A hand placed on the small of Annabelle’s back, and she warmed to his touch.

“You guys make a great couple.” He leaned in, kissed Annabelle on the cheek and walked away. “You’re going to have an amazing time together.”

“What was that?” Ben asked.

“I just wanted to make sure he was okay.” She turned to look at Ben, frustration wearing on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded. “After party or back to the hotel?”

“You look frustrated?”

“It’s okay, Annabelle, really,” he stressed, before being dragged away into another discussion with some men in suits, none of whom Annabelle recognised.

There was head shaking, nodding, glancing in Annabelle’s direction, shrugs, more head shaking, and Ben walking off in a huff, collecting Annabelle and making for the exit.

xxx

I woke up next to Ben.

Naked.

In bed with Ben.

Fuck.

Literally.

Oh hell.

I sprang upright, out of bed and collected my clothes at the sound of a knock on the door. We were due to get on a plane and head home by midday that morning, and I’d spent the night with.

Oh hell.

We’d come back to the hotel and cracked open a bottle of wine, then another and, in a giggling mess, a third and final one that had, clearly, tipped us over the end and sent us flying into bed, desperately tugging at zippers, ties, dresses and stockings.

I scrambled for the adjoining door, my dress gathered up around me should the door be unfortunate enough to open and, those standing behind it were even more unfortunate to see me in the nude.

It took no time at all and we were being ushered back through the hotel, down into waiting cars and off to the airport, again.

Off to normal life. Or whatever was left after normal.

Ben and I spent the next few weeks together, sneaking through ‘Our Gate’ at every opportunity, enjoying each others’ company, nights out with friends, and quiet nights in. We even ended up entertaining Tom more often than not, the three of us often spotted out and about.

I worked on books, Ben worked on television and film, and everything worked well.

At least, I thought it was.

Until I woke up one day to a phone that didn’t stop ringing and Tom on my doorstep with a newspaper.

And an engagement notice.

Apparently, according to the newspaper, to my phone, and to the internet that was going into meltdown, Ben was getting married.


	12. Chapter 12

“Is this some sort of joke?” I pulled the front door open to find Tom standing there looking just as confused as I was feeling.

“I have no idea, no idea.”He shook his head. “Are you okay?”

“Well, no, no I’m not. I’ve been wheeled about town for the last four weeks, wined and dined, Tom I haven’t slept alone any night that he’s been home, and this?” I rubbed my eye.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Yeah, well it had wanna be a good one.” I stopped. “Did he say anything to you at all?”

“Not a damn thing. As far as I knew it was you and him.”

“Is he home, do you know?”

“I don’t know, but there are photographers in a car across the road waiting for something to happen.”

“I’m not giving them anything.” I dropped the newspaper on the kitchen counter and flicked the kettle on. “I mean, what the hell? Am I supposed to just walk over there like I have no idea what’s going on? I’ve got bloody women treating my twitter account like a wailing wall, Facebook is flooded. None of this is about my books anymore, it’s about _him_ and I hate that!”

Tom scratched his face, his look perplexed. “Well, I can’t go over there. I mean, the photogs already know I’m in here, I got snapped on the way up the front path. I can’t go through the gate, he’s going to know I’ve been here and we’ve been talking.”

“Worrying about how he’s feeling is not on my list of priorities about right now.”

“Don’t you think this is out of character, though?”

“It is,” I agreed. “Something smells.”

“Yeah, and this time it’s not your feet,” Tom quipped.

I pulled some sneakers on and made my way across the backyard and through the gate. His house was full of people. It looked like a champagne breakfast was on the cards. _Nice_ , I thought, _really nice_. The door slid open and I walked inside. You could have heard a pin drop. Ben came bouncing down the stairs with a smile on his face, which dropped through the floor when he saw me.

“Outside, now,” I demanded.

“This is not your business.” The perky blonde I assumed was the ‘Charlotte Brown’ mentioned in the newspaper looked at me like a bug that needed sprayed.

“Oh, I can assure you it very much is my business,” I laughed at her. “You coming outside, or am I going to drag you?” I looked at Ben, who refused to make eye contact. It appeared his shoes were much more interesting.

“I’m busy right now,” he mumbled.

“No shit! So am I. Outside. Now.” I pointed to the backyard.

There was no response. The room was silent, all eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. The fiancé, who I’d never seen or heard about in my life, stood there with a vacant smile on her face and oversized ring on her finger.

“Your silence is deafening, Ben.” I broke the stalemate. “What’s wrong with your shoes?”

He turned around and left the room, a hand scratching the back of his neck. Nervousness. I wasn’t going to get an answer anytime soon, and particularly with a room full of people, so I marched straight back out the door and returned to my home.

“He won’t even look at me.” I looked at Tom as I slid the kitchen door shut.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he answered. “None of us saw this coming.” He picked up the paper. “And who names their daughter Charlotte Brown? Are you there God, it’s me, Charlie Brown.”

I couldn’t help but stifle a snorted laughter. “I can’t believe this.” I rubbed my face. “This is insanity.”

“Well. I’m hungry. You cooking breakfast or are we going out?”

“Fuck it. I don’t care right now. Let’s go out.” I grabbed a jacket from behind the front door.

“Think they serve cocktails this early?” Tom mused.

“I hope so.”

I closed the front door behind us and walked past the awaiting media into town.


	13. Chapter 13

Ben watched through his front window as Annabelle and Tom walked quickly past the media and down the street, neither of them reacting to the cameras shoved in their faces, and Tom with a protective arm around the back of the woman he’d previously had.

“You okay?” Charlotte came into the room.

“Yeah, just great,” Ben mumbled.

“It’s for the best.”

“Whose best? Yours, or mine?” he stalked off back into the kitchen.

xxx

There were no words fitting enough to be exchanged between Tom and me, so we sat quietly for the better part of an hour. Coffee became coffees and breakfast remained barely touched. Eventually, one us spoke up.

“What a complete fucking dick,” I sighed.

Tom looked up at me, his eyes previously set on his breakfast.

“I can’t believe I bought that shit.” I scratched my fingers through my hair, making me realise how badly it needed a wash.

“I’ve never met her in my life.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I’m fairly certain.”

“Not even at a party or industry event?”

“That might be a little different,” he admitted. “I mean, there are women everywhere looking to go home with someone.”

I looked at Tom, and I believed him. I knew we were having our picture taken as we ate. It wasn’t a normal part of life for me, yet, but given the news of the day I guess I was front and centre. My reaction, or lack of, was ‘imperative’, to use Tom’s word.

“Just smile and nod. No matter what happens be the bigger person. You don’t need negative stuff hanging around online. People remember that shit.”

“True. I’m just so angry, Tom.” I leaned into the table and whispered.

“I know, Annabelle, I know. You look about ready to murder a small army of children.”

I rubbed my face. “I thought sleeping with someone made you exclusive?”

“Well...,”

“I know you’re a bit different, you are Tom, but... far out.”

My brain spun, and I couldn’t get it to sit still long enough to form coherent thoughts about what was going on. My agents called a number of times during the day. Apparently they needed to do damage control, and they wanted to discuss my responses to any questions that might come up. Tom sat with me in my lounge while we went over everything time and time again before I pulled my laptop out and tried my best to clean up my Twitter and Facebook accounts.

Urgh. Social media.

_Are you okay?_

_What a dick move..._

_I could choke him..._

_I thought *you* were the girlfriend..._

_It was no secret about you two, was it?_

_Do you need anything?_

_Can I come over?_

_Call your mother, please..._

They were just some of the text messages that came through that morning. I needn’t have said anything to the media because Ben jumped on the front foot and did it for me, releasing a statement that we’d never been dating, and the media had taken everything out of context.

Tumblr land didn’t see it that way. If I was to believe a large portion of what was going around there, the fandom was about to go into meltdown because we were “so cute”, “well suited”, “adorbs”, and “needed to make beautiful babies”.

I wouldn’t have gone down that path after a month, but I was being held up as some sort of serious career girl, with brains to match their now termed “unicorn prince”. I’m sure they thought he farted rainbows while they were at it. Nyan Cat? Nyan Ben.

I didn’t see Ben for another week. Tom and I caught up regularly, and I even took a break at his place to get away from photographers, dragging my laptop and manuscript around to his house for some R&R. Then it was on to a girls weekend with my friends back home, which prove difficult because I couldn’t very well spill on everything that had happened unless I wanted it out there in the media.

After disappointing my friends with a lack of information I was back home to my little pad and my backyard gate that had once brought with it so much fun. I caught up on the mail, the washing, and little bits around the house that had to be done before settling in for the night.

“I need you at the film premiere next week,” Ben’s voice floated over the fence. “No, it’s not an option... no... that’s part of the deal... Karon will sort you with some clothes... okay... bye.”

Ben was in his backyard, and I saw red. That lasted until I walked through the gate and saw him. After that, I was just upset.

“Ben?”

“We can’t talk.”

“Of course we can,” I answered.

“No, we can’t. You need to go.”

“Will you look at me when you speak to me?”

“We’re having an engagement party next week, you’re welcome to come.”

“Is that some sort of joke? Because it’s not very funny,” I spat.

“No joke. No joke.”

He was skittish, and still couldn’t look at me. He collected some clothes from his clothesline and made to walk inside.

“Ben, I deserve better than this.”

“Yes.”

“I deserve an answer,” I said.

“I can’t give you one.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“I thought we were friends? If nothing, I thought we cared about each other on at least that level.”

“I have to go.” He tried to slide the kitchen door shut and I shoved my booted foot in the way.

“Ben, stop. Look at me.”

“Please go.”

“No.”

“I’ll have you removed.”

“Who are you going to call? The police? The media?”

“Annabelle, I’d like you to leave. I’m engaged to Charlotte, you need to leave us alone.”

“Are you happy?” I looked at him.

His eyes skirted up to me quickly, before darting away again quickly.

“Are you? Because you’ve fucked up a lot of friendships this week. I’m having dinner with Adam and Tom this week.”

“You’re allowed to, I can’t stop you.”

“Are you happy Ben?”

“Yes, yes, very happy, overjoyed. Please leave.”

“This smells like dog shit, Ben.”

He looked up at me, finally.

“Don’t give me that repulsed fucking Tietjens face, either. Something is rotten here. This is not the Ben I’ve known. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m getting married.”

“Right. Sure. Of course you are.”

“I am.”

“Yep. You are. You be happy then.” I dismissed with a wave of the hand as I walked off.

“Thank you. Your support means a lot,” he called after me.

“Oh, that’s not support. You’ve lost me. You don’t have anything from me anymore. I can’t even find pity for you.” I shouted, slamming the gate shut.


	14. Chapter 14

_Oh God, she’s adorbs._

_Looks at how she straightens his bowtie on the red carpet._

_The way he looks at her._

_The way he touches her._

_The way they laugh together._

_So much chemistry!_

_I bet they banged like a screen door in a hurricane._

_Imagine him coming downstairs in the morning with his pyjama pants._

_They were so beautiful. Why did this not work?_

_Has anyone read her books? Her books are amazing!_

_I went and bought all her books, they’re so good._

_She’s so talented. Smart. Beautiful. Funny. Just what Ben needs._

_Not like this new girl._

_They can’t even touch each other._

_She won’t look at him._

_He won’t look at her._

_What’s going on._

_Something smells._

_I’m sure this is fake._

And there it was: the Tumblr reaction to the engagement. If it wasn’t just me seeing it, surely I couldn’t be wrong. After my week long sabbatical with Tom, I decided to up the ante and disappear to my parents’ house, an hour out of London.

Away from Ben, away from Tom, away from the media, away from everything.

However, I couldn’t avoid it for long. Part of my social media was a Tumblr account, everyone knew of it, and it was part of marketing, and something I still hand a wrangle of, as well as my Facebook and Twitter accounts. Like everything else, that had had a massive increase in followers over the past eight weeks.

Simply through my association with Ben I’d sold books on a scale that I never had, and not just in the local market. They’d taken off in places I’d hardly sold them before, both eBook and in print. I was also entertaining offers of films based on books. I mean, what sort of fool was I to know that back, but it all felt a little bit empty, to be honest.

It was then that I create an anonymous Tumblr account, I couldn’t very well go clicking like on pages like ‘The Sceptic Receptive’ and ‘The Sceptic Collective’ using my author account. I knew how that shit worked, and I wasn’t getting my name pegged to any of it.

I’d been at my parents for about three weeks, hurrah for writing being a job I can take anywhere with me, when I heard from Tom.

T: You around?

A: Like a record. What’s up?

T: Just had lunch with Ben.

A: Great.

T: Something’s not right.

A: I know that. You know that. The world knows that.

T: No, really. Something is wrong.

A: How so?

T: He won’t even talk about ‘her’.

A: Not that I really want to hear him talk about her.

T: Well, true, but it’s strange. He won’t open up.

A: Unlike him to shut up talking for five minutes.

T: Yeah, well, it’s like someone’s sewn his mouth shut.

A: Hmmmm

T: Come back to London, we’ll do lunch.

A: Sure. See you in a few days.

T: No, now. Hang it. I have a few days off. Send me your parents’ address. I’ll come see you.

A: Here comes that heartburn again...

T: Hardy har.

 

Tom was up two days later, his charming self with a bunch of flowers.

“What are they for, Tom?”

“They are for you, to make you feel better.”

“I feel fine. Just angry and confused.”

“And crying, if your eyes are anything to go by.”

“Hardly.”

“Well, it’s either crying or a severe romance with a marijuana plant.”

“Whatever.” I moved out of the way to let him in the front door.

“I’ll give them to your mum, then.” He walked straight past me and helped himself to the rest of the house, my parents sitting in the back room watching the television.

“She’ll marry us off.”

She did. She was in love with Tom from the minute he opened his cheeky little mouth. He did the old ‘I know why your daughter is so beautiful’, which lead to ‘Why don’t you go out with him?’, which lead to ‘Come on Mum, shut up for five minutes’, which lead to Dad offering him dinner. So, I was stuck with Tom for the day at least.

Thankful for the bit of sunshine we were currently having, I was sat outside with my laptop and doing some editing.

“What are you working on?” He leaned into me to look.

“A book about an asshole with a pretend girlfriend.”

“So, you want to know what went down, then?” he asked.

“I don’t know, do I?”

“Yeah, you do. Trust me.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a notebook.

“You took notes?” I cackled.

“Fuck yeah. You ready?”

“No.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has accepted this in the spirit it was intended: a lampoon. 
> 
> Also, greatly appreciate the comments and kudos left so far. If you're enjoying it, please leave some kudos, that's how I know I'm on the right track. 
> 
> xoxo

“Wait, how’d you take notes? Not while he was sitting there?”

“Oh no. I had a bad tummy bug apparently. Off to the toilet a bit.”

“Far out, Tom. You’d make a reporter, yet.”

“So, what do you know, Jimmy Olsen?”

“Well, Lois, not much more than you, actually. He doesn’t look great, like he’s not sleeping. He keeps telling me he’s okay, but he looks like crap. The bags under his eyes are just insane. He won’t talk about her, won’t mention her by name. Kept asking me how you were, though.”

“Guilty conscience?”

“Maybe, maybe. He should. I told him he was a piece of crap for doing that to you.”

“Yeah, well more fool me for thinking I should be exclusive.”

“I disagree. For all my tomfoolery, see what I did there, even I know when to draw a line and say this is exclusive. It was my understanding you were, along with the majority of the media.”

Well, that was a revelation from Tom at least.

“How long has this been apparently going on?”

“He says six months.”

“What a lot of shit.” I leaned forward and tipped my coffee cup to my mouth. “This is cold, you want a coffee?”

“Please.”

“Have you seen photos of them together?” I asked as Tom followed me into the kitchen.

“Neither of them look like they want to be within a ten mile exclusion zone of each other, let alone touch,” he admitted.

“Any idea what’s going on?”

“None. You?”

“No,” I answered. “But Tumblr does.”

“Do not ever put my name in that search engine,” Tom warned.

“Bit late for that, Thomas.” I smirked.

“Oh no, what have you seen?”

“Nothing you should be... ashamed about?”

He went the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen anyone go, and discussion stalled for the better part of half an hour as we scrolled through pages of Tumblr and blogs associated with Ben.

“These women are holding her up on a pedestal.”

“In fairness, a lot of them still hold you higher,” Tom admitted.

“Thought you said you haven’t been on Tumblr?”

“I haven’t. I have resources,” he mumbled.

“I might have to pay him a visit when we get back. I need answers.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Sure.” I stopped. “Actually, no.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t want both of us offside. You can be good cop.”

“Right. Sure. Think he’ll buy it?”

“Well... anything is possible, isn’t it?”

xxx

I knew Ben was home alone, he had been all week. I’d seen him walking around the kitchen during the day, and waited for dusk before I walked through our backyards to try and see him. The sliding door was locked, and a knock saw Ben look up from a sink full of dishes.

“Please can you open the door?” I leaned against the glass.

“Go home, Annabelle.”

“I just want to talk to you. I don’t want to fight.”

Ben walked over and opened the door just enough to speak. “I need you to go home.”

“Don’t I deserve at least an explanation? Even if you’re going to lie, I deserve to know _something_.”

“I don’t want to lie to you, that’s why I want you to go home.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that. You _know_ that.”

“Did you get her pregnant?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Is she pregnant?”

“Not that I know of,” he repeated. “Annabelle, please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bit late for that.”

Tom was right, he looked a mess.

“Are you sleeping?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Answer my questions. Stop deflecting.”

“I’m trying to sleep, yes.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Long enough.”

“Ben, I thought it was you and me.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t, was it?”

“Don’t be rude. The least I deserve from you is the truth. I mean, you lied to me Ben. If you’ve been with her for however long, you lied to both of us. Does she know we were sleeping together? Going to awards shows together? Going to movie premieres together? It’s in the presses, so I’m sure I wasn’t dreaming it. I’m sure as hell certain I wasn’t dreaming you creeping up the stairs after getting back from America and spending the entire next day in bed. Or did I?”

“No, you didn’t dream it.”

“So, it did happen, then?”

“It did.”

“So why the lies? None of this makes sense. You can’t tell me you’re happy?”

“I am happy. I will explain this all one day over a coffee.”

“So, there is something shady going on?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I turned and walked, determined he wasn’t going to see me cry any time soon. I shut and locked the door, headed for my study and turned my laptop on.

Tumblr search: ScepticCollective.

_Ask/Submit._

_Subject: Answers Please_

_Hello. I live in London and I know Ben. Personally. I want to talk to someone about this blog. In person. I need answers, too._

_Please reply._

_An Interested Party._

I shut the computer down, and went to bed thinking nothing more of it. Sleep evaded me, different ideas and thoughts running through my head. At three in the morning, I gave up and went downstairs to try and write some.

_From: ScepticCollective_

_Re: AnswersPlease_

_Okay, you’ve got me interested. I’m in London as well._

_Who are you? What’s your relation to Benedict? How can you prove this?_

_SC._

_From: AWearyLady_

_To: ScepticCollective_

_Re: re: AnswersPlease_

_Annabelle Weir._

_I’m sure that explains it all._

_Caffe Nero, Marylebone Road, 11am? Can you make it?_

_From: ScepticCollective_

_To: AWearyLady_

_Re: re: re: AnswersPlease_

_Yes. Yes, I can._

_See you then._

_Thank you, Annabelle._


	16. Chapter 16

Ben paced back and forth. She was late. Charlotte was late, again. _Annabelle wouldn’t do this_ , he thought to himself, checking is watch again. The cameras were waiting, the premiere was going to happen with or without him and while he knew he had a penchant for being late, this was completely ridiculous.

“Where the hell is she?” Ben whispered to Karon.

“Not far off, she’s on her way.”

“About time.”

xxx

Annabelle took a table inside Caffe Nero, near the back wall, and facing the inside of the restaurant. The last thing she needed was to be photographed for any reason whatsoever. Every time the bell above the door tingled, she looked around, her eyes darting and head bobbing like a bird on the lookout for danger.

“Hello, I’m April.” A young girl slid into the seat in front of her. “Ms. Weir I absolutely adore your books, I’ve read three of them in the past fortnight.”

“So you’re the one?” Annabelle joked. “Your name is April, as in April O’Neil?”

“Yeah, I thought a good psued would protect us both.”

“Well, so long as I end up being outed by anyone.”

“Scouts honour.”

“Were you ever a Scout?” Annabelle narrowed her eyes.

“No.”

“Okay, right.” She nodded into her coffee. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Oh no, only tea.”

“Earl grey? Drop of milk? Builders tea?”

April nodded wildly. _Sounds about right_ , Annabelle thought, _what Ben says goes in this fandom._ Tea and cakes were ordered and the girls sat chatting quietly.

“So, what do you know?” April leaned forward clutching her own elbows.

“I’m tipping about as much as you do. You tell me what you have, and I’ll tell you if I can confirm it or not.” Annabelle stopped herself short. “But first, I need your real details. If this leaks and I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

“Oh, I don’t want my name out there,” April stuttered.

“Neither do it, so cough.” Annabelle held her hand out.

April handed over student ID card from her school.

“How old are you, honey?” Annabelle looked at her.

“Eighteen.”

“Wow. Okay.” She picked her phone up from the table and took a photo of the ID.

“Hey, what are you -.”

“Like I said,” Annabelle handed her the ID card, “I’m not going down alone. So, what have you got?”

Nothing more than rumour and conjecture for the time being, it was still early days and the general consensus in the fandom was that it looked like a setup from the outset.

“Weren’t you dating Ben?” April’s eyes looked at her sympathetically.

“Well, I thought I was. Turns out apparently I wasn’t.”

“How long does Ben say he’s been with Charlotte?”

“He doesn’t. He won’t speak to me.”

“So you’ve been shut out completely. Interesting.”

“I have,” Annabelle confirmed.

“What do you think is going on?” April kept scribbling in her notebook.

“You know, I don’t know enough right now to say either way. I thought I was dating him. Apparently not. I can’t get a straight answer out of him. The friends who are trying to talk to him are getting the same response, I know of a few who have tried. I haven’t given up on having a discussion with him. He was too good of a friend to just throw at least the friendship away.”

“Are you willing to share what you find out?”

“I’m willing to share enough that it doesn’t get pinned back on me. So, when you go home tonight, and before you post this to your blog thing, I want a copy in my email. I will go over it. I will take anything out that incriminates me. You do not have permission to use my name or location. I will send through an approved version of your post, and you can post that up on the wall.”

“Will you take questions? I have so many readers who are keen for information.”

“I’ll do my best, but I won’t take questions directly, they can come through you.”

“Of course.”

“Anything else you desperately want to know?”

“Can we call you CoffeShop Anon?”

“Sounds fair.”

“Oh, and one last thing?” April stood up to leave.

“Are you dating Tom?”


	17. Chapter 17

Of all the bloody questions I didn’t need or want to be entertaining, that was one of them. There’s a reason he’s referred to as the Town Bicycle, not me. I left from my meeting with ‘April’, still giggling about her use of a fake name, and about the fact she was still in school.

Coat wrapped around me, wind threatening to tap on my bones, I stopped in at Tom’s on the way home.

“Let me in, Jimmy!” I belted the front door.

No answer. Odd, I knew he was home. I belted again.

“Thomas!” I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialled his number.

“Is that you banging on my front door? You had better be offering me sex if you’re waking me up this early.”

“Honey, it’s after midday.”

“But, sweetie, I didn’t get home until three this morning.”

“Where were you?” I looked at my phone. “Answer your damn door, we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Superman.”

“Are we talking in code now?”

“Yes, open the fucking door.”

A few more moments of silence, the thud of feet still asleep as he came down the stairs, the unlatching of a chain and the door pulled open.

“Put some pants on, Thomas!”

“Oh Jesus!” He moved to cover himself.

“I’m only joking,” I laughed, walking through the front door. “Gotcha.”

“Well, my heart still works,” he sighed. “Far out.”

“You do need to put a top on, though. I can’t deal with all that half naked man business right now. My body is aching for a man.”

“Hey, like I said.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m game if you are.” He snapped the kettle on and fished a clean t-shirt from him clothes horse.

I helped myself with coffee and biscuits, much to Tom’s amusement, and he caught up on emails before we sat down to talk.

“Do you have an invite to the engagement party?” He croaked.

“A proper, paper invite?”

“No, it’s all on email.”

“Oh, that’s traditional,” I snorted.

“Don’t even get me started. It’s so bloody poor.”

“Mumma Wanda not gonna be happy.”

“You need to do some ground work with Mumma Wanda.” Tom pointed a finger at me.

“Oh come on, Tom. I can’t burrow in like a mole.”

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes you are. Don’t tell me no.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? He won’t even talk to me.”

“You can start by going as my plus one to the engagement party.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes you do. I want to see if you see the same as me.”

“What do you see?”

“Just what I’ve already told you. Something isn’t sitting right. He’s not happy about what’s going on. At least, he doesn’t seem happy about it.”

I scratched my head. “You should have seen this girl this morning.”

“What girl?”

I relayed the story about the Tumblr blogs, Tom laughing as I went, and hysterical at the April O’Neil reference.

“Who’s Casey Jones?”

“No, I’m not interested in Casey Jones. I want to know who Krang is.”

“Krang?”

“The mastermind. She’s clearly Shredder, if we’re going by codenames. I want to find her Krang.”

“This is gonna fuck up our friendship group.”

“Isn’t it already?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, true.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing this morning? Cavorting with the enemy?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Well.” Tom moved to make himself some breakfast. “You want to eat? You want to play a game?”

“I’m not into sex games.”

“I’m not talking about sex. Far out, he has done a number on you, hasn’t he? You’ve got dick on the brain.”

“Hey, don’t be horrible, or I’ll start the jokes about hair like a Brillo pad.”

“I have black hair right now, thank you.”

“Ohhhahhh,” I laughed. “What’s the plan?”

“You’re coming to the engagement party with me. I’m going to tell him we’re dating.”


	18. Chapter 18

Annabelle checked herself in the mirror. Dress, done. Heels, done. Makeup, done against her will. Tom had arrived at her place, suit in a bad, shoes in a box, tie shoved in his pocket.

“Can you believe this is happening?” Annabelle grumbled, helping him straighten his tie.

“I don’t know what I should be surprised about anymore.”

“Did you just brush your teeth?” Annabelle crinkled her nose at him.

“Can’t be anything other than minty fresh for this occasion,” Tom laughed.

“Did you bring a toothbrush with you?”

“No, I just used yours.”

XXX

The small room opened up around me, and it was already clear that there were two camps established. Ben’s camp and Charlotte’s camp, and never the twain should meet. Ben wasn’t expecting me, so his face turned a beautiful shade of pumice as I walked through the door with Tom.

“Take my hand, take it, quick, quick, quick,” Tom muttered, his hand flailing about next to him as he tried to grab mine.

“This is so fucking tacky.”

“Yeah, well so are e-vites,” he added.

There were more handlers than a zoo, and a very small percentage of family and friends lining up to congratulate the tawdry couple. I can’t believe I just used the word tawdry to describe Ben, but there you go.

“So, you been to any coffee shops lately?” Tom asked as we stood on the sidelines of the room.

“No, I believe I am tomorrow, though.”

“Don’t be getting drunk then. Can I come with you?”

“Do you want to?” I looked at him disbelievingly.

“Sure.”

“Goddamn, you’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack.”

“Good to see you’ve moved on,” Charlotte purred as she approached.

“Hello Charlie.” Tom shook her hand.

“Charlotte,” she repeated.

“Charlie’s a bit more... I don’t know... fun, isn’t it?”

Her eyes were near enough to dead. In fact, I’m sure I’ve seen better looking corpses, and it wasn’t long before she was looking me up and down.

“Annabella.” She smiled.

I ignored the confusion with the name. “How are you? You’re looking so lovely tonight.”

“Thank you, my fiancé picked it for me.”

“Oh, and he does have wonderful taste,” I chuckled.

“Why is that funny?”

“Oh, because up until about a month ago, your boyfriend -.”

Tom yanked me away to another part of the room. “We don’t need to be kicked out yet, and I don’t want to know about what you did with him.”

“Why? You jealous?”

“No, just, I don’t want to know.”

“Thomas Hiddleston, you are jealous.”

“I am not.” He played with the buttons on his jacket.

We watched from the sidelines, feeling every bit on the outer and a group congregated around Ben, and a separate group around Charlotte. At least the drinks were free.

“And here we see the succubus in her natural environment,” Tom leaned into my ear and mumbled.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed, and loudly. Ben’s head snapped around to look at us and, finally, he came over to say hello. Tom’s arm went up around my shoulder as he approached and, as the three of exchanged ridiculous platitudes, Ben’s eyes kept floating to the hand on the shoulder.

Our discussion with him was banal and short lived, and he took off back to the people Tom referred to as the “coat-tailers”, the ones who would sell him out if it meant another fifty pence in their pocket.

We left before the night had barely begun, happy enough with what we could gather from the night. Ben and Charlotte didn’t interact with each other, or each others’ friends, though she was the worse side of tipsy by the end of the night which was pure gold to watch, to be honest. I thought she was going to outright shag one of her male friends, and it wouldn’t surprise me if that had happened, to be honest.

Tom and I left, standing on the pavement outside waiting for a cab.

“What do make of that?” he asked.

“What a lot of shit, Tom.”

“Okay, so same as me, then.”

It was at that moment Charlotte stomped her way outside and made a beeline for me. This was going to be fun, I was sure of it.

“You stay away from him,” she demanded. “Stay away from him, his house, and his friends. He doesn’t need you anymore, he has me.”

“Right, okay. Well, you know, if you ever want to actually know what your boyfriends’ dick looks like...”

“Annabelle, that’s enough.” Tom grabbed me and shoved me into the cab before wriggling into the seat next to me.

“He doesn’t need you, either,” she barked at Tom.

“Right.” Tom smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

And with that, our cab disappeared into the night.


	19. Chapter 19

I woke up the next morning to a heavy lump against my back. Tom. I sat bolt upright in bed, trying to recollect the later part of the night before. We’d come back to my place, cracked a bottle of wine, then perhaps another, and maybe some spirits once the mood livened up.

Then there he was. Naked as the day he was born, breathing heavily. I was ‘sort of’ dressed, wearing the shirt Tom had worn the night before.

_Oh no._

_Now we do have a triangle._

_Oh hell._

_Someone get the protractor._

I raced out of bed and into the shower, my make up hadn’t fared the best being left on all night. I scrubbed hard. All of me. Then I scrubbed some more. I checked the bin in the bathroom. Yep. Empty condom. Well, at least we were smart about it, I guess.

Washed, dressed and looking like a human again, I tiptoed out to the bedroom. Tom was still asleep. I reached across and poked him with a single finger, retreating quickly.

“Tom!” I whispered.

No response.

Again, a single finger poke. This time he jumped and rolled over to face me, a smile dotting his face through bleary eyes.

“Well, hello tiger.”

“Thomas.”

“Thomas? Shit that was one I didn’t hear last night.”

I groaned on the inside.

“We have to get to the cafe.” I cleared my throat. “You know, undercover detective business.”

“You don’t want to, you know?” He patted the empty space next to him.

“Not right now, no.”

“Right, okay then. Better get dressed.”

He up and walked across the room like it was second nature to... no way, yeah he was peacock strutting, black hair touching the nape of his neck.

“Just going to shower and we can get going. Did buggalugs leave a t-shirt or something around here I can wear?”

“Yeah, probably.”

Still confused, we got the bus into the centre of town. I don’t how Tom managed to just get the bus into town and be left alone, but he did. When I say left alone, he wasn’t hounded constantly like Ben was. I’m sure there were sneaky photos left, right and centre, but there wasn’t the constant flow of autograph and photograph collectors waiting for him.

We met our roving reporter in the same cafe as last time, and I was right, she almost dropped dead when she saw Tom walking in with me. She fluffed and fanned herself, asked for a photo and an autograph before we got down to business.

Honestly, there wasn’t anything scandalous to report from the night before, except for the comments made to me about Ben not needing me anymore. I never got the impression he needed me for anything, anyway, but he did want me around. That much, at least, was obvious.

As I listened to April chatter away, slipping in her own personal discussion with Tom along the way, my brain fog started clearing and a picture of last night started to emerge in my head.

A tussle up the stairs.

A lot of laughing.

A bottle of liquor in the bed.

Skin on skin.

Handfuls of bed sheet.

“Annabelle?” Tom waved his hand in front of my face.

“What?”

“Carmen San Diego has a question for you.”

“Sure. Sorry.” I shook my head.

“Did they look happy?” she asked.

I looked at Tom. Tom looked at me.

“No,” we answered in unison.

@@@

Ben paced back and forth in his living room, Wanda and Tim sitting on the couch.

“We very much liked Annabelle, love.” Wanda offered.

Ben chewed at the nail on his right thumb, his left arm crossed over his front.

“She didn’t like red carpets,” he offered. “Said it was going to be a hard life for her, she likes being quiet, the quiet life, away from the lights.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Tim asked.

“There’s nothing wrong from my perspective.”

“Well, what’s going on then?”

“Nothing. I’ve been seeing Charlie for a while. Things happen.”

“Son, I’m your mother. I can tell damn well when you’re lying. Is Annabelle home? I want to speak to her.”

“No, she’s not home.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she was flitting around this morning with Tom before they went out somewhere.”

@@@

As they walked down the street, Annabelle looked down at her phone, vibrating in her hand.

“What is it?” Tom asked.

She looked up at him. “Ben.”

“What does he want?”

“Dinner at his place tonight. He’s asked for just me, him and his parents.”

“Ooooh. Interesting.”

_Interesting indeed_ , Annabelle thought as she unlocked her front door.


	20. Chapter 20

Wanda wrapped Annabelle up in a hug, shortly following the smothering she got from Tim. She held Annabelle at arms’ length.

“Where have you been?” she whispered. “I was hoping you might call?”

“Oh hell, don’t start me on that.” She tried to remain as light hearted as possible, given that Ben was still in earshot.

“I won’t have this not visiting business, no matter what’s going on now, you still must come out for tea.”

“Oh, okay, sure.” Annabelle nodded. “Alright. I’ll make sure to visit shortly.”

“How’s your writing?” Tim asked while Ben brought a handful of drinks over to the table in the dining room.

“Really well, thank you,” she answered. “Slowly, slowly, but it’s getting there.”

“I’d love to read it as soon as it’s ready,” Wanda enthused. “I’d read your books long before Ben had told me you’d moved it. I was so excited.”

Annabelle chuckled. “Thank you, that’s a lovely thing to say.”

“So, have you two seen a lot of each other lately?” Tim prodded.

“No, no, apparently Ben doesn’t need me anymore.” The words had slipped out before she’d had a chance to fully think them over.

Ben’s eyes snapped up to her, thunderclouds brewing behind his irises. Classic Tietjens face, Annabelle thought.

“Oh, I don’t buy that for a second. Why, just a month ago you were out at our place with Ben for dinner and he couldn’t talk more highly of you if he tried.” Wanda winked at Annabelle.

She definitely knew something was going on.

“I guess that’s life, though, isn’t it? Some of us are destined for red carpets, some of us are not. And when you don’t fit the mould, well, you get tossed to the side like an old toy.”

“Got something you’d like to say, Annabelle?” Ben spoke slowly.

“Me? No. No, I’m perfectly fine. Just conversing.” She inhale the wine Ben had slid across the table to her. “Just conversing.”

“Calm down, Benedict.” Wanda patted his hand. “Why don’t we go for a look at the garden?”

“I think the garden would be great. It’s been so long since I’ve seen it. I’m sure it’s changed,” Annabelle offered.

“Someone hasn’t got enough sleep,” Tim teased Ben. “I remember that face as a three year old.”

Ben’s eyes travelled between his father, his ex-girlfriend, and the mother who was seemingly throwing him under the bus in favour of said ex.

xxx

“What the hell is going on?” The hiss in Wanda’s voice matched the death grip she had on Annabelle’s arm as she dragged her across the yard.

“I have no idea.” She tried to be as quiet as possible. “Ben and I were... you know.” Annabelle felt her cheeks flush. “And that was great, there were no problems there. We went out, as far as I knew we were exclusive, and I was getting taken out to red carpets, night events, shop openings, exhibition openings, galleries, etc.”

“Yes, yes, you were the arm candy.”

Annabelle pointed back to herself. “I thought things were going well.”

“Darling, we all did. He was smitten.”

“Then I wake up one morning, Tom’s on the doorstep...”

“Oh, how is that darling man?”

“He’s grand,” Annabelle laughed. “Really, he’s okay. He’s been a great friend to have around.”

“Anything going on there?”

Annabelle felt her cheeks prickle. “Not sure, honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Well, that’s more honesty than I’ve seen lately from other people.” Wanda looked at Annabelle, her eyes the same piercing blue as Ben’s.

“Do you think this is fake?” Annabelle whispered.

“Go!” Ben charged across the backyard toward her. “Get out. Go.”

He grabbed Annabelle’s upper arm, in much the same fashion as Wanda had just done, and marched her straight over to the infamous side gate.

“Let go!” She struggled against his strength, recently bulked up for a film role. “Ben, enough. Let go!”

Annabelle struggled, but she was able to yank herself free from his grip.

“How dare you engage my mother in a discussion like that.”

“How dare you lie to me!” Annabelle got in his face, hissing her answer.

“What I do is not your business.”

“It does when it affects me. When you hurt and you use me then, yes, it is my business.”

“You can forget about coming around here again. I thought we could talk like adults tonight, but instead you’re trying to talk my mother into those bullshit rumours that are online.”

“Oh, so you can read, can you?” Annabelle crossed her arms over. “What about body language? Can you read that? I sure as hell can.”

Ben glared at her, his eyes narrowing and his face set.

“She leaned in to kiss you on the cheek last I saw you, and you pulled away. You looked repulsed. You have no intimacy, no physical contact. God, you and I are having more contact this very second than you ever have with her.”

“Oh, and you’re in my house are you? You can see what goes on behind closed doors.”

“I know she doesn’t live here,” Annabelle snapped. “Don’t treat me like a fool. Not that I should expect anything more from you, that’s how you’ve treated me all along with this mess.”

“I have not. You made it clear we were over.”

“I did? When? And how did this occur and give you enough time to find Oh Love Oh Your Life?” she taunted. “You make me sick. You are surrounded by yes men and sycophants. Your head is so far up your own arse you probably get second course from each meal.”

Ben stood tall, stiff. “Are you quite done?”

“No, no I’m not quite done. You used me. You treated me like shit. Well, you know what? I slept with Tom. Fuck you.”

“Clearly we’ve already established you have.”

“Enjoy your fake girlfriend. The one that doesn’t live with you. Mr. Oh So Romantic and Traditional. What’s next? A baby?”

Ben gave her a shove on the shoulder, pushing her through the gate. “You’re disgusting.” He looked at her, pulling the gate shut. “Don’t you come through this gate again. I don’t want to see your face anymore.”

“Really? Last I checked you were still having a good gawk through your kitchen windows. It’s not me watching you need to worry about,” she shouted through the latch hole in the fence.

“Go home Annabelle.”

“Last I checked, I was home,” she baulked. “I am in my own backyard.”

“Go away.”

“Really? You want that do you? You want to end this, do you?”

“It ended long ago.”

“No it didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t be so upset now.”

“Sure. Because I’m the one yelling, am I?” Ben chortled. “You’re unbelieveable.”

“There are entire websites dedicated to you Ben, about how fake you are, how fake your relationship is. Want to know what they say? I’m happy to be the go between, because I agree with ninety percent of what they’re saying, and that is that you look miserable, beaten up, and you look like shit. Also, they’re not so interested in you anymore.”

“I doubt it.”

“Dear God, what’s it like inside you funny little brain, Ben? It must be so boring! You ever want someone to tell the truth, you can come knock on my door.”

“You think after that performance I’d want you for a friend, do you?”

“I don’t give a toss what you want anymore. It’s what you need to hear.”

“You’re going in circles, Annabelle. Go inside. Better yet, call Tom, I’m sure he’s bored.”

Annabelle turned on her heel, stormed inside her house and drew all the blinds. Angrily, she punched numbers into her phone.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Tom, it’s me. Busy?”

“Not too busy for you. See you in ten.” He closed the phone on Annabelle.


	21. Chapter 21

“How dare you,” Wanda sneered at Ben. “She was the best thing you had going for you, and you manhandled her like that?”

“She deserved it.”

“Hardly,” Wanda snapped. “That was disgusting.”

“But -,” Ben’s protestation was cut off.

“But nothing. Get on over there and apologise to her, right now. I will drag you over by what I gave you if you don’t go of your own accord.”

“No.”

“Benedict, go,” Tim added. “Just go.”

Wanda raised her eyebrows, and followed Ben as he walked over, poking and prodding him in the back to walk faster.

“Your behaviour was disgusting.”

“Didn’t bother you at the time,” Ben sulked.

“It’s not my relationship to interfere with.”

“As opposed to this?”

“This is responding to your behaviour, not your relationship. You don’t want my opinion on your relationship.”

“Which one?”

“The real one or the fake one?”

“There is no fake one,” Ben spat. “You have to be kidding me.”

“And don’t be walking through the backyard. Use the front door like a gentleman, like your father and I taught you to be. Honestly, Benedict.”

@@@

Tom flew through the front door without knocking, looking for Annabelle in the study, and racing upstairs to find her stepping out of the shower.

“Hey!” he hissed.              

“What?”

“Bitch, I mean, Batch is on his way over, and Mumma Wanda’s wearing the angry face.”

“He’s already here,” Ben announced.

The three of them stood in the bedroom, a triangle if ever there were one.

“Reckon you might let me get dressed, then?” Annabelle gripped her towel for dear life, the only sound in the room the sound of water dripping from her hair.

“It’s not like we all haven’t seen it,” Tom quipped.

Ben glared at him.

“What?” Tom laughed. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Yes you did,” Ben and Annabelle protested in unison.

“I think you’ll find, my love, that you were far too drunk and fell asleep before we got to the fun part.”

Annabelle hid herself in her walk in robe, pulling the sliding door shut. “We had sex though. I remember bits of it.”

“No, no we did not. I had to go to the bathroom and, ah, deal with that myself.”

Ben laughed as Annabelle stepped back out of the robe, dressed in her pyjamas.

“Firstly, what do you want?” She glared at Ben.

“Uh, I need to talk to you.”

“Then talk,”

“In private,” he added.

“Why in private?”

“Because it’s between you and I.”

“Well, I have a guest now.” Annabelle gestured at Tom. “And after your performance not thirty minutes ago, I’ve got half a mind to toss you out. I swear to God I have never done so little work in my life as since you turned up.”

Tom held a pointed finger in the air. “You know what? I think I’ll go home. You two clearly need to sort some things out. Tomorrow morning, breakfast at my place?” he hinted at Annabelle.

“Yes, breakfast is fine. I’ll text you tonight.”

“Oh hello Wanda, you beautiful specimen of English Rose, you,” Tom giggled as he walked out of the bedroom door.

“Thomas Hiddleston, you have some cheek.” The sound of skin being slapped could be heard as Tom bounced down the stairs with a giggle before closing the front door heavily behind him.

Annabelle’s bedroom was quiet again as the two of them stood together. In another time and place they would have been tearing each other limb for limb in order to get under the bed covers. This time, however, it felt like there couldn’t possibly be any more distance between them.

“Ma, can we have some privacy please?” Ben requested.

“Are you okay Annabelle?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Can you call me tomorrow, please?” Wanda asked her.

“Of course.” Annabelle answered. “Thank you.”

“Come over soon, won’t you?”

“Mum, go home,” Ben snapped.

“Don’t be like that, Ben. At least one of you is bound to tell me the truth.”

“Mum. Home.”

Then there were two. Benedict and Annabelle, two people once so close, but now so far apart.

“You want to talk?” She looked at him.

“Yeah, you got a minute?”

“I think we’re going to need more than a minute, aren’t we?”

“Honestly, yeah.”


	22. Chapter 22

Finally in a pair of pyjamas, I brewed a pot of tea while Ben sat at the kitchen counter, his eyes looking everywhere but in my direction. My latest manuscript caught his eye and he reached for it to read.

“No you don’t. You don’t get that privilege anymore.” I snatched it back and placed it on the counter near the toaster, out of his grasp.

“But you give them to mum.”

“Because your mum doesn’t lie to me on a regular basis, does she?” I looked at Ben.

“I don’t know, does she?”

I slammed two cups down on the bench top, pouring two sloppy cups of tea and handing him the milk to add his own.

“Sugar?” I almost ground the sugar bowl into the bench.

Silence hung in the air as Ben sorted his drink out. He was sheepish, almost scared of what was coming.

“Are we gonna rip this bandaid off, or what?”

“Sorry?” He looked up at me.

“Are we actually going to have an honest conversation?”

“There’s not much I can talk to you about right now.”

“What a lot of shit!” I yelled. “How dare you tell me that? You owe me a decent explanation as to why I was tossed out like yesterday’s newspaper.”

“I’m sorry.” His head was bent down into his cup.

“Look at me and say that,” I demanded.

“Annabelle, I am sorry.”

“Do you know what people are saying about you?”

“Please accept my apology.”

“Why?”

“Because I need you to.”

“What if I don’t feel like I can?”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do.”

I walked down to the study and brought my laptop back to the kitchen. Ben watched as I switched on and loaded up a few blogs.

“This here, Ben. This is what people are saying.” I shoved the computer and watched his eyes move over the screen.

His face changed: shame, embarrassment, horror, sadness, hopelessness, and laughing at some of the more insane theories out there.

“So who’s right and who’s wrong?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Is this your doing?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“These pages?”

“No, Ben, they’re not.” I shook my head. “I am worried about you, seriously worried.”

“Why?”

“Have you stood on the scales lately? Any idea how much weight you’ve lost? When we were dating you filled your suits out fantastically.” I wiped tears from my eyes with the palm of my hand. “I was so proud to stand by your side. So proud of you.”

“You said you didn’t enjoy the red carpet stuff, though?”

“Not all the time, no. I said it wouldn’t be a problem occasionally, but I don’t need to be at the opening of an envelope. You get paid for appearances. I get paid to write. I can have an independent career besides being on a man’s arm.”

“Of course you can, I couldn’t agree more. But that one night you said you hated it and were done with them.”

“Ben, you turn up in a suit and tie. You look, quite frankly, divine. No one should be allowed to look as good as you do. I turn up with one hair out of place and I’m lambasted from here to the opposite end of the internet. The only saving grace for me at the moment is the fact that everyone fucking hates Charlotte.”

“I’m getting that stark impression. Yes.”

“Is this a legitimate relationship?”

“They really don’t like her,” he mumbled.

“Not a good choice, then?”

“I’m engaged to be married.”

“You aren’t seriously going to marry her, are you?” I scoffed. “I cannot for one second buy that this is a serious relationship. I haven’t seen either of you anywhere other than at film premieres and your ‘engagement’ party, which, by the way, everyone noticed you didn’t even look at each other.”

“I have to go.” Ben stood to walk to the kitchen door.

“No!” I ran to stop him leaving, blocking the door. “No. You owe me the truth, Ben. After everything that happened in this house, you owe me the truth.”

“Like the truth about you and Tom?”

“I told you what I was sure had happened.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “How drunk did you get?”

“I don’t remember large chunks of the night,” I admitted.

“And you tried to use him to upset me.”

“Did it work?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Multiply that feeling by the internet, and that’s how I feel about you and Charlotte.”

He sighed heavily and started pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

“If I walk away, are you going to run?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not again.”

I relaxed a little. “Then tell me. What’s going on?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Anna, not like this at all.”

“What was it supposed to be like, then?”

“It was just supposed to be a red carpet girlfriend.”

“You couldn’t take me?”

“You didn’t want to go to all of them!” he argued.

“Right, so being independent woman, which you so adore apparently, I get tossed aside. Good to know.”

“We’re both on a contract.”

“You’re WHAT?!” I shouted.

“A contract.”

“You sold me out for fucking money?”

“I’m sorry!” he yelled. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done it!”

“And now what?”

“She put the engagement notice in the paper.”

“So fucking retract it, then?!”

“And look like an arse?”

“Don’t tell me you’re doing to marry her?” I scoffed.

Ben looked at me.

“Oh, Ben, come on.”

He said nothing.

“I will lock you in my bedroom if I have to stop you fucking up your life like that.”

“I want your help.” His eyes were red. “Please, Anna, will you help me?”

I looked a him, blinking.

"In fact, I don't want your help, I _need_ your help."


	23. Chapter 23

I looked at him, his eyes red raw.

“Cry if you want to cry.”

“I don’t want to.” He shook his head. “It won’t fix anything.”

“Tell me from the start what happened.”

“Can I have a cup of tea, please?”

“Will it stop you stalling?” I asked, switching the kettle on.

“So it started as a red carpet girlfriend type arrangement.”

“An escort?” I screwed my face up.

“Well, not exactly.”

“Have you slept with her?” I shrieked.

“No, of course not.”

“Right.” I nodded, walking around the kitchen.

He looked defeated, shoulder slumped, hands dancing through his hair. “I haven’t slept with her.”

“Do you even _talk_ to her?”

Ben snorted. “You’re joking me?”

“How’d you get mixed up with her?” I pried.

“The film distributer. They wanted me to turn up with someone at premieres and award nights.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes you do.”

“They wanted to portray the good English gentlemen.”

I laughed loudly. “And getting yourself messed up with her was gentlemanly, was it?”

“I asked if I could just keep bringing you, and they’d heard you’d made comment somewhere about not liking red carpets,” Ben said.

“Well, they aren’t my favourite thing, but a necessary evil.”

“So, you were off the list.”

“Hang on a second. Were you just using me -.”

“No!” he disagreed vehemently. “Not at all. What we had was something, something good, something excellent.”

“Good,” I snorted.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he snapped.

“Don’t you snap at me.” I pointed at him. “You’re here because you were an idiot and didn’t talk to me. You dropped me on my arse and I found out I no longer had a boyfriend thanks to Twitter. How do you think that made me feel? Huh?”

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “I can’t say it any more! I’m sorry!”

I rubbed my face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell, I don’t like yelling, I’m just so bloody angry.”

“I want her gone.” Ben looked at me.

“What do you mean by gone?”

“I want her thrown under the proverbial bus.”

“So, do it? Issue a retraction. Call the Times now, tell them to print a retraction.”

“It’s not that simple, Annabelle.”

“Yes it is. You don’t love her, she clearly doesn’t love you. You’re miserable.” I grabbed his face and moved it around under the spotlight above the bench. “You’re losing weight.”

“No, it’s not,” he repeated.

“Whyyyyyy.” I threw my hands in the air. “Pray tell, why is it not that simple?”

“She’s got me over a barrel.”

“Yes, but you haven’t slept with her, so it’s not like she can come out with ‘I’m pregnant’.”

He looked up at me. “Want to bet?”

My mouth dropped open. “You cannot be serious. All you need to do is make a statement, send her to the hole from whence she came.”

“The people in power don’t want that, though.”

“Okay. So we need to break it apart from underneath then.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Don’t we?”

“How do we do that?”

“I have a friend who can help.” I picked up my phone and dialled a number.

“Who are you calling?”

“Hello?” I started. “How are you April?”

“Who is she?” Ben asked.

“April O’Neil is your golden ticket.”

April muttered away on the other end of the phone. "What happening? I didn't ever think you'd call me."

"Well, turns out I need your help. I know it's late, but what are you doing tonight?"

"Studying?"

"Want to meet Ben?" I asked.

"Give me your address." She demanded.

I chuckled. "That's the spirit."

I rattled off my address and hung up the phone. Ben looked at me, confused.

"Who is she?"

"Your new friend and key to freedom."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, my friends. I'm currently working on a screenplay and a novel, so i'm a bit jammed for time at the moment!

“And you’ve invited her here?! You can’t do that!” Ben screeched at me. “Everyone and sundry knows we live next door to each other. I can’t have this.” Ben got up and paces around my kitchen. “Oh God, they’ll be all over my doorstep.”

“Ben, your address is public knowledge anyway, you twerp. Where are they all now?”

“Please can we not do this here? For your safety at least?”

“My safety? Now you’re worried about me?”

“Call her back and tell her we’ll meet up in public somewhere.” Ben waved his hands about.

“You want there to be a possibility of a public record of this?”

Ben sat back down at my kitchen bench, head in his hands. And we waited.

It was another hour before April arrived, the small barrel of nerves that she was as she bounced through the front door and down towards the kitchen. I was sure I heard her squeak as she sighted Ben moulded into the couch in the back room, his knees up in his chin and oversized feet dangling off the lip.

“Hello!” she began, a little bit laughing and a whole lot of nervous.

“Hello, lovely to meet you.” He didn’t move from his spot.

“April, Ben, Ben, April.”

“April’s not my real name.”

“Ben doesn’t need to know that.” I looked at her. “April is fine.”

“And you run the blog?” He glared at her.

“One of them, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because something’s not right.”

Even I was impressed that she confident enough in herself to say that to his face.

“So, April.” I sat right up next to Ben on the couch. “We, Ben and I, would like your help.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Ben.” I looked to him. “What is it you want to happen?”

“I need Charlotte gone.”

April squealed and clapped. “Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t do that.”

“No, it’s okay.” Ben waved his hand. “Now, Annabelle has your name and address, am I correct?”

“Correct,” she answered.

“So if any of these meetings get out into public record, I’ll know who to blame.”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard.

“Both Annabelle and I are going to feed you information.” Ben looked to me for approval. “Information that needs to be leaked out.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“I’m just going next door to get the first piece of information I want leaked. Annabelle, can you turn your scanner on, please?”

“Sure.”

Ben slipped out the kitchen door quietly and through the fence. April sat looking at me, dumbfounded.

“That’s really him.”

_Oh God, she’s got tears in her eyes._

“That’s really him. Yep.” I nodded.

“He’s not that tall is he?”

“Don’t say that to him,” I laughed. “He hates that.”

“And you really are friends, like good friends, he looks at you like... wow,” she giggled.

“Well, he hasn’t been a very good friend lately,” I admitted.

“I’m so glad he’s gone rogue.”

“Rogue?”

“He’s finally sticking it to them.” She stopped speaking as she heard the kitchen door slide open again.

“Oh, right, that. Yeah, well.”

Ben walked down to my study and settled himself at the computer, scanning documents. He’d been gone a few minutes before I popped my head down the hallway.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Me? Yeah, I’m okay,” he huffed.

“Do you need anything?”

“A hug would be nice right now.”

Stood behind him, I pressed my hands down on his shoulders. Eventually they slid down his front and I wrapped him up in a hug while he sat, hunched over, scanning documents into the printer.

“What are you scanning?” I asked, chin pressed into his shoulder.

“Proof she’s an escort.”

“Hello.”

“I want it online tomorrow,” Ben stated.

“You sure?”

“Yep. I photocopied them and blacked out the important bits.”

I turned to find April standing at the door of the study watching us intently. Ben looked over to her momentarily, before returning to the computer. He finished off an email and sent it through to mine.

“Annabelle, could you please forward that email to April, making sure you remove my contact details beforehand?”

“Okay. Sure,” I agreed.

Ben took his spot back on the couch in the lounge and explained to April exactly what he wanted. The documents had to go online by 6am in the morning. He was going to call someone he knew in the press to follow Charlotte and see if she made any strange movements. My job was to act as an intermediary only. If anyone asked, I knew nothing and saw nothing.

“Think you can do that for me?” Ben looked at April.

“Of course.”

“I want absolutely no names attached to this. Keep it anonymous; do not tell a soul that you have met me. Not a soul. If I’m attached to this it will go haywire. Got it?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded frantically.

“Right. I’m going to bed. You have breakfast with Tom, and you need to call my mum tomorrow. If you don’t call her, she’ll be calling me and telling me to take the phone to you, so make sure you do that.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Thanks Annabelle. Thanks April.” Ben kissed me on the cheek and disappeared out the kitchen door, through the backyard and into his house again.

April sat looking dumbfounded.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Is this really happening?”

“I believe so, yes.” I nodded. “I’m gonna have to kick you out, though. I’ve got some work to do before I go to bed. I’m going to forward that email to you right now, so you can put it up as soon as you’re ready to.”

“I’ll put it up right now, if you want to give me ten more minutes of your time?”

“Sure okay.”

“I’m going to give Ben an Anon. I think Captain’s Log Anon is appropriate.”

“Well, I guess he’s in charge of the ship, isn’t he?” I chuckled.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” April muttered. “Captain’s Log Anon, Stardate Extraordinary....”


	25. Chapter 25

“You cannot be serious!” Tom groaned.

“Calm down, McEnroe.” Annabelle rolled her eyes.

“And that’s gone online this morning? She legitimately put that there last night with you watching?”

“Uh, yeah.” Annabelle pushed the coffee cup up to her lips and looked around the cafe.

“Are you fucking insane? No, you know what, don’t answer that.”

“He asked me for help, what do you want me to do?” Annabelle argued.

“Would you help me like that if I asked you?”

“Of course I would. Of course!”

“Look, I’m just worried this is gonna go bullocks up and you’re gonna be the one thrown under the bus,” he reasoned.

“Don’t worry about protecting my modesty, Tom.”

“Trust me, there’s very little left of that between you and I. I’ve seen it and damn near heard it all.”

Annabelle squirmed. “I can’t hang him out to dry.”

“He hung you out to dry pretty quickly.”

“I know, I know.”

“So, what now?” Tom asked.

“Well, we wait for fall out.”

There was none. A small corner of the internet would hardly make a drop in the world’s ocean of tabloid news. Ben paced his living room most of the morning, waiting to see if anything came of it. By midday, he gave up and called Annabelle. Her phone was engaged.

“How did you go with Ben?” Wanda asked.

“Urgh. He’s got himself in a mess, hasn’t he?” Annabelle asked.

“He really has. I don’t know why he doesn’t just pull up stumps and go.”

“Has he not told you?”

“Told me what? Annabelle, what’s going on?”

“That little troglodyte,” Annabelle grumbled. “She’s threatening to tell people she’d pregnant.”

“Is she?” Wanda gasped.

“Well, no, she’s not, but it wouldn’t be hard to make happen, let’s be honest”

“I could throttle her.”

 

“Well, I could throttle him, too, to be quite honest,” Annabelle admitted. “I got left high and dry and now he’s crying in my lap for help. Honestly, Wanda.”

“I know, I know,” she agreed. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know, I have to speak to Ben.”

“Alright, love. Well, I’m going to tell Ben to bring you to lunch over the weekend, are you free?”

“Yeah, look, probably. That shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

They finished their conversation and Annabelle’s eyes flicked open.

“I’ve got it,” she gasped.

Tom looked up from the lemon tart he’d been shovelling in his mouth.

“Got what? Herpes?”

“You wish.”

“So, what’s the bright idea, then?” He licked his fingers clean and dropped the spoon.

“It’s simple, isn’t it? He’s got a fake fiancé, give him a fake girlfriend.”

“What?”

“A fake affair. All I’d have to do is turn up to places with him and people will assume something is going on.”

“Well, you’ve officially lost me.” Tom stood up. “That’s the most ridiculous fucking thing I’ve heard this side of the fake girlfriend.”

“What? You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious Annabelle. For God’s sake we were three snores away from getting it on with each other last weekend and now you want to be a fake girlfriend for him? I’m not sitting around and putting up with that. Make up your mind what you want. Him or me.”

“Tom, I’m just helping -.”

“And helping me look like an idiot, too, you realise? I’m nobody’s second choice.”

Tom got up and walked away, leaving Annabelle sitting on her own in the cafe. She looked down to her phone to find twenty-three missed calls from Ben.

“Ben, what?” she snapped as he picked up the phone.

“Something’s happened.”

“What?”

“Check the blog.”

“I can’t, I’m on the phone to you.”

“I’m hanging up. I need to know who Number Two Buddy Anon is.”

“Why?”

“Just read.”


	26. Chapter 26

“... Number Two Buddy Anon has gotten in contact with me today, and they are one hundred percent legit... they claim Benedict and Charlotte couldn’t be happier... claims of a contract are just trolling...”

I sat back, looked at the screen and rubbed my face. Honestly, I didn’t need this. Tom had just dropped me like a hot potato in the middle of a cafe; I was sure that’d turn up in a tabloid somewhere. Now I’d gotten myself involved in stuff I didn’t need to be involved in, helping someone who’d already thrown me under the bus once.

I didn’t call Ben back.

Instead, I headed home, pulled the blinds shut and zoned out for the day. I had a meeting with my publisher that I needed to be ready for later in the week, so tried to work on that instead. A proposal for my next two novels and an idea for a third; two guesses what was making a really got plot line at the moment.

When the words are flowing, it’s not hard to get sucked into ‘the zone’, that moment where time doesn’t exist and you’re living in the same world as your characters. Then again, a loud pounding on the door can change that.

“Annabelle, open the door, please!” It was Ben.

My chair was too comfortable, I didn’t move. Instead, I listened to him bang on the door again.

“I know you’re home, I need to see you!”

_That’s nice. I don’t need to see you,_ I thought.

“Please.”

_Enough with the whiney boy voice._

The door unlocked and he barrelled on through the front door and into the entry.

“Did you read Number Two Buddy?” Pacing had become part of his normal repertoire lately, and it commenced on cue as I followed him down to the kitchen.

“I did.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Ben...”

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Be involved.”

“B-b-but, I need help, I need someone in my corner.”

“When I moved here, I let you into my life. We had a lot of fun. You and Tom were hilarious, and you both became wonderful friends to me. Then things developed with you and I, until an opportunity for further fame and fortune appeared on your doorstep. You signed a contract, Ben. With your own hand, you signed the contract.”

“I didn’t have any choice,” he argued.

I took the paperwork from on top of the scanner, where he’d left it the night before, and handed it back to him.

“There is always a choice. Unfortunately for you, you made the wrong one.”

“I did, I know I did.”

“And yet, you still did it in the first place. Instead of talking to me about this red carpet issue I had, you let people into your ear and into your head. It cost us our relationship, and it’s quickly tanking our friendship as I get thrown in front of more buses to try and help you. Today, it cost me my friendship with Tom. You don’t get to keep dragging me down.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” I nodded. “But the thing is, you want everyone to fix your problems for you. I can’t be that person for you.”

“My mum called me today and told me I was an idiot.”

“She’d be right,” I agreed.

“She asked if you were still coming with me on the weekend.”

“No. I won’t be coming. I’ll have lunch with her next time she’s in town, but I can’t just be left dangling off the side for you. You made your bed, you deal with it. Go speak to your lawyers. Go do something, call a press conference. I don’t know, hell, try telling the truth for once.”

“I am telling you the truth.”

“I found out we broke up on the internet, Ben. Do you know how that feels? Tom has been so wonderful to me since I met the both of you and today he pointed out how much of an idiot I’ve been. You keep giving me rope, and I keep hanging myself with it. Not anymore. You signed that piece of paper with your own hand, because you were fame hungry. Think of what that’s actually cost you now, instead of what you’ve gained. From all reports, the film has tanked, Charlotte’s drowning in a sea of hate, and she’s only bringing you down with her.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he mumbled.

“I just can’t anymore.” I shrugged. “I can’t. It hurts too much. I’m neglecting my job, I’ve lost friends and, yet, for some reason, I keep helping the one problem that started this all. That’s a bit not good, wouldn’t you agree?”

He nodded, his eyes glistening and boring straight into mine.

“Don’t cry at me. I just can’t do this anymore.”

“I understand,” he answered.

“I don’t think you do,” I said. “I really need you to go home, please. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow. I’ll talk to you soon but, for now, I think we need some distance.”

“Okay, sure.” He stood, collecting his paperwork. “I’m sorry about you and Tom.”

“I’m sorry about you and I.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Please take care.”

“You’ll work it out,” I offered. “You just need to do what’s right.”

“The problem is, I don’t know what that is right now.”


	27. Chapter 27

I needed to make amends with Tom so, the morning after my confrontation with Ben, I dragged my sorry backside into a meeting with my publishers, went through my proposal, and hotfooted it to Tom’s to try and catch him.

Listening to the rustle of traffic driving by, I hoped that he was home. His heavy footsteps down the staircase told me he was. He came to a stop by the front door.

“I know you’re there, Tom, stop spying through the peephole and open the door.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to talk to you about Jesus,” I played, hoping the humour would work.

“Why? What is he up to today?”

“He comes bringing an offer of chocolate muffins, the really big ones from the bakery down the road. The ones he knows Thomas likes with the big chunks of chocolate in the middle. The ones that Annabelle knows heat up really well in the microwave. The ones that Annabelle knows go really well with double thick cream and freshly brewed hot coffee, so strong it kicks your two front teeth in.”

“What if I’m on a diet.”

“I can only off you water and a bland tasting apology.”

“Apology for what?”

“Being an idiot.”

“Why were you an idiot?”

“Because I’m too busy trying to help people that should look after their own beds.”

“What happens if you get into too many beds?”

“I get fleas. Please can you open the door, Tom? I’m sorry.”

The locks clicked open, and the door swung open quietly to reveal Tom in his pyjama bottoms.

“Why aren’t you dressed? It’s after lunch.”

“I’m having a mental health day.”

“Hey?”

“A day to do whatever the fuck I want to do, home on my own.”

“Just tell me you aren’t binge watching _The Only Way is Essex?_ ”

“Damn.” He snapped his fingers and laughed.

Finally, a smile.

“You were right,” I offered.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tom switched his coffee machine on.

“I said you were right,” I repeated.

“Hang on. Hang on. I’m not sure. I think I’m hard of hearing this morning. I’ll just a pen and paper, we can communicate chalk board style and you can write that down for me.” He pulled a pen from the desk caddy on the bench, and fished a piece of paper out from a notepad. “Just write that down in neat, legible script for me, if you could. That’d be great.”

I humoured him and wrote _You were right. I was wrong. I’m sorry_. On the piece of paper.

“I’m just gonna have to frame that, I think. If anyone ever says my acting is shit, I will show them this.”

“You might not want to, that would imply that they’re right.”

“No, no. Because I will preface the presentation of said parchment with the story of that one time that Annabelle came to her senses.”

I rolled my eyes and threw his pen back at him.

“So, what happened?” he asked.

“So, to counter the claims of a contract, someone else has contacted April O’Neil and said there’s no contract and whoever said that is just trolling.”

“Yep, because Ben would troll himself. Of course.”

“Ben flipped out, and came over and all I could hear in my head was you, and I felt terrible for you, and I felt terrible for him, but then I just thought... well... I really enjoy having you in my life and it doesn’t make sense to help someone so much after they treated me like last weeks’ favourite toy.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you.”

“So, I told him he needs to put his big boy pants on and just deal with it. If it’s not true, then he needs to call it.”

“Have you seen the newspaper this morning? Apparently he’s sold his house because Charlotte doesn’t want to live next door to you.”

“I don’t exactly want to live next to her, either, if that makes anyone feel any better,” I chuckled.

“What do you think is going on?” Tom asked.

“I think it’s as fake as her tits, but you know... that’s his problem to sort out.”

“It’s not like he can go against the Hollywood big wigs. That’s his dream. If he can’t play the game, and blows this out of the water, it’s all over.”

“Is he that much of a famewhore, though?”

Tom shrugged.

“What about you?” I looked at him.

“What about me?”

“Would you do something like this? A fake relationship?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“Can you guarantee that?”

“I’m pretty happy with how much career is right now. I have a lot of fun with it and I have a lot of great friends out of it. If I had a girlfriend who wasn’t keen on the red carpet, then I would just ask that she comes along to the things she’s comfortable with, and then we can use work as an excuse when she doesn’t want to. It’s all doable. It doesn’t need to be a fake set up to put bums on seats.”

“I feel like such an idiot, Tom. Honestly, I feel like I’ve been walking around with clown shoes on.”

“I have seen you wear red shoes,” he joked. “But the question is: can you juggle?”

“I can write?”

“We’ll start with that.” He pushed a coffee across the counter to me. “Did you actually bring those muffins?”

“No, not really, but I know where we can get some. I feel like writing in the sun today.”

“Sounds good, I should probably give these scripts a nudge anyway.”

“You’ve got some more?”

“A few more, yeah. Hang on. I’ll give them to you, you can be my pack camel today, you’re buying muffins, with cream, and also, then I’ll get dressed.”

“I’m sure Tumblr wouldn’t mind if you went out in your jimmy jams.”

“I kind’ve would, though, it gets a bit breezy,” he chuckled as he bounced back up the stairs to change.


	28. Chapter 28

I was hanging washing out in the backyard the next time I ran into Ben. The gate crept open and through he came, dragging his tail between his legs. The look on his face told me a very bumbling apology was coming and if the fingers being dragged through his hair were any indication, I was right.

“Hey Annabelle.”

“Ben.” I answered.

“How are you?”

“Excellent. How are you?”

“Shit.”

“You okay?”

“Just working through a few things,” he offered. “I think I’ve worked out what I need to do.”

“Want to talk about it?” I offered.

“Not sure.” He shook his head. “Will you give me your honest opinion if I do tell you?”

“Of course.”

“How are you and Tom?”

“I spoke to him the morning after you and I had had our discussion in the kitchen. We’re okay.”

“You know the press are saying -.”

“Benedict, I’m well aware of what the press are saying. You and I both know how accurate their reporting skills are, particularly when they’re being fed by people,” I snapped. “Sorry, just, your obsession with this is ridiculous.”

“It’s not an obsession, it’s an observation.”

“And what are the press saying about you this week? I’ve been on a Cumbercleanse.”

“A what?”

“A Cumbercleanse. I have no fucks left to give about that woman and the shit she’s dragged you into. I have not read about it, I have not spoken to April, I haven’t the time. I neglected my writing for a relationship I thought was going somewhere and I got fucked over, so I’m barrelling ahead with the writing now and ignoring everything else.”

“I had an idea there.”

“Shoot.”

“It involves you.”

I put a handful of pegs back in the caddy and looked at him. “Do I need something to stab you with?”

“What if we set up some pap shots of you and I?”

“No,” I answered bluntly. “This is why I had a falling out with Tom in the first place. I suggested the same thing and, well, let’s just say it went to shit.”

“You already thought about that?”

“Of course I did. But it’s only making me look like a slut... someone who can’t decide who she wants, considering I’m snapped out and about with Loki and his Sceptre three times a week, and then out with you. Plus it makes Tom look like an idiot, and that’s not fair on him.”

“How does that make him look like an idiot?”

“When was the last time you had a conversation with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me give you some advice. Again, Big Boy Pants. Put them on. They might be a bit snug, but there you have it. Deal with this shit yourself. You signed the contract, whatever the hell it is. You’ve cut your friends out, I know how long it’s been since you’ve seen Tom, because I’ve seen him more than you have. If you want to end up a sad, miserable old man, you’re going the right way. Pull the plug before this goes on too long. Get rid of the dirty bath water and her along with it. Ben, I’m sorry, but I cannot get involved in this.”

“So what, you’re saying call a press conference?”

“Press conference or statement. Hell, get one of your mates to leak something to the press. There are ways around it.”

“Can you write me a press release?”

“For God’s sake Ben,” I groaned. “You know what? Let me consult the Gods and get back to you, okay?”

“She leaked the story about buying a house. Or, moreover her mum did.”

“Yeah, well, I called that.”

“I thought you weren’t keeping track?”

“I’m not.” I spat. “Go home, Ben.”

“Can you come see me when you’ve made a decision?”

“Can you go see Tom first?” I asked.

“Sure, okay. What are his movements over the next week?”

“Call him and ask him,” I answered.             

“Sure, okay.” Ben nodded. “Can I see you in a few days?”

“Sure, okay.”

Ben walked off, back through the gate and into his house. It took me about ten minutes and I had a text from Tom.

T: Hey you

A: Hey me. What’s up? (no sceptre jokes, please).

T: Fine

A: Seriously, what’s the G.O.?

T: Cootieboy

A: Oh, harsh. Yes.

T: Just called me. You have anything to do with that?

A: Maybe?

T: Wants to do lunch tomorrow. Alone.

A: Oooh, alone.

T: So it was you?

A: Maybe he wants to hug you, he wants to love you, he wants to touch you

T: He has the guilts.

A: Of course he does. He just asked me for help again.

T: What’d you tell him?

A: Told him I had to consult the Gods.

T: Does that mean you’re cooking me dinner tomorrow night?

A: Correct. Lamb or Pork?

T: Sooo many jokes you’ve just... opened yourself up to Annabelle.

A: Lamb or pig?

A: And yes, I know.

T: Let me shout you dinner. We’ll get dressed up, go somewhere trendy. Let me see how lunch with His Nibs goes.

A: Why?

T: I just want to gauge the climate.

A: Sure, okay.

T: I’ll call you tomorrow.

A: No worries.

T: Talk soon xo

A: Night

T: See ya, beautiful.


	29. Chapter 29

Ben examined himself in the mirror; the bags under his eyes were insanely pronounced, his skin pale and Annabelle was right, he’d lost weight despite a bid to bulk up for another role. Charlotte was nowhere to be found, possibly in Dublin with her family until she needed to be trotted out again.

Standing at the kitchen sink with a coffee, he could see Annabelle pacing around her kitchen, phone to her ear, laughing and smiling at whoever had her attention. He remembered a time when it was him that elicited that reaction from her. His heart sank again. She pulled the fridge open, poured a glass of juice; if it was Annabelle, it would be cloudy apple or orange juice. Carton back in the fridge, she leaned over the counter, her arse sticking out in –

“You ready?” Tom brought his attention back to the real world.

“Look at her,” Ben mumbled.

“Trust me, I do.”

“No, really, look at her.”

“Are we playing this game again?”

“Look at how simple her life is. She just writes books and lunches -.”

“If you think her life is simple right now, you’ve lost touch with reality.”

Ben looked across at Tom, affronted. “I’ve what?”

“You think this has been easy for her? You couldn’t even afford her the decency of a private conversation before your flaunted whatever her fucking name is in her face. She’s had her privacy invaded because your crazy ass fans don’t know any boundaries. Sure, she’s selling a shit load of books, but it’s come at a cost.”

“I’m not having the conversation with you.”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds like you and her on a loop, repeating the same thing over, and over again.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll keep repeating it until you understand,” Tom said. “You ready to go?”

“I miss her.”

“Yeah, well... come on. We’ve got a booking for lunch.”

Tom looked at his friend, slumped over a menu, a shell of his former self.

“I think it will be better for you in the long run to get on the front foot and tell the truth.” Tom broke the silence, pouring out some glasses of water.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Tom repeated. “Sure, it’ll hurt, you might get a few bruises on the way down, but it’s better for everyone, particularly yourself. You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean Bella mentioned it -.”

“Bella?” Ben screwed his face up.

“Annabelle.” Tom pulled a face.

Ben groaned at the nickname. “Don’t call her Bella, that’s ridiculous.”

“I think the only ridiculous thing at the moment is this ruse that’s going on. The smart ones see through it.”

Ben sat with his hand in his chin. “I asked Annabelle to help me write a statement to the press.”

“She told me about that.”

“She did?”

“Bella and I talk every day,” Tom teased.

“Will you stop calling her Bella?”

“Why?”

“I don’t like it. It’s stupid.”

“For someone in love you’re sounding very jealous.”

Ben seethed. “I am _not_ jealous.”

“You totally are,” Tom pushed.

“Can we talk about something else please?” Ben suggested. “What have you been up to lately? How’s work?”

“Work’s good. A little bit of time off here and there, got a few things in the pipeline. I’m trying to shop around one of Bella’s books, actually. I think it’d make a great film.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “For heaven’s sake.”

“What? One man’s trash is another’s treasure.”

“She is not trash!” Ben shouted, finally losing his cool.

“You dumped her!” Tom argued back. “You clearly love Charlotte more!”

“I do not love Charlotte! I never have! It’s all a bullshit set up!” Ben yelled at him.

Tom smiled. The entire restaurant was silent but for the sound of a spoon dropping onto China. Ben sat back down in his seat, face buried in his hands.

“Did you just say that out loud?” Tom teased.

“Is everyone watching me?” Ben asked.

“I would say the entire street is, yes.”


	30. Chapter 30

Ben got up quietly, making a beeline for the exit. It was too late: camera phones were out and he was being snapped at a rate of knots, people already on the internet and reporting what had happened. Had one person reported it, he could’ve plugged it as an overzealous fan. However, the entire restaurant had heard him, and knew that Tom was with him.

Tom followed him quickly, chuckling on the inside. “Mate, what happened there?”

“You know what happened there,” Ben spat. “You goaded me into that.”

“Feel better?”

“Are you serious?” Ben stopped, yelling in Tom’s face. “Are you out of your mind? I am fucked now, even more so than before.”

“Don’t be like that,” Tom chuckled. “It’ll work out in the wash.”

“Work out in the wash, you are delusional. Just as delusional as she is.”

“Which ‘she’ are you talking about?” Tom’s hackles were up.

“Fucking ‘Bella’, as you like to call her.”

Tom shoved him. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

“Why? What are you gonna do?” Ben shoved him back. “Huh? Ring her and tell her? Whine to her about how howwwwwible Benedict has been to you? Climb into her bed and take advantage of her delicate state?”

“Delicate state? You’re insane!” Tom yelled. “You just got what you deserved. You treated her like shit, you’re the one that whined at her like a baby for forgiveness and help. Be a man! Look after your own bed!”

Ben pushed him again.

“Is this what you want?” Tom asked. “Make no bones about it, I’ll thump you one.”

“You wanna hit me? Hit me!”

“You’re not worth it!” Tom turned and walked in the opposite direction.

“Now who can’t man up?” Ben provoked him.

Tom stopped on the spot, a small crowd gathered around them now. He turned and walked back towards Ben, who was standing there looking like the proverbial animal in the headlights.

“Keep going,” Tom muttered, “you’re only making yourself look like a lunatic.”

“You set me up.”

“And you deserved it for how you treated Annabelle, for which lesser gentleman would throttle you.”

“Typical,” Ben snorted.

“How so?”

“Take the holier than thou route.”

“It’s not holier than thou; it’s stopping you from making a complete fool of yourself.”

“Whatever.” Ben turned and walked away, by that time cornered by a paparazzi photographer.

Tom hotfooted it into the next street and disappeared onto the first bus he saw. It took him nowhere near the direction he needed to be in, but it got him away from the scene, which is what he wanted.

xxx

I was sat at her computer when her email chimed. It was April.

FROM: April ONeil

TO: Annabelle Weir

SUBJECT: OMG Tom is a Lord!

Did you hear? Did you hear what just happened?

 

FROM: Annabelle Weir

TO: April ONeil

SUBJECT: Re: OMG Tom is a Lord!

No, I haven’t heard. What’s happened? Call me in thirty minutes.

 

xxx

I didn’t get through thirty minutes when I had a thumping on the front door, the giggling voice of Tom echoing through the mesh door.

“Annabelle-ah, open the door! Quick, quick, quick, come open the door for me!” Tom sounded excitable, and I raced to the front door to greet him.

“What’s the matter?” I unlocked the mesh door.

Tom flew in, closing both the mesh and the wooden door. He snipped both the locks shut and raced down into the kitchen, where he proceeded to draw all the curtains and blinds, still laughing wildly.

“Tom, have you lost the plot?”

“No, not me.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Ben lost the plot though.”

“Hey?”

“Cumberbatch lost the plot, started yelling and screaming at me about how he doesn’t love Charlotte and it’s all a setup.”

“Get out.” I stood back, shocked.

“I _will not_ get out.”

“You’re giggling like a naught boy,” I observed. “You didn’t happen to do this on purpose at all, did you?”

“I may have.”

“How?”

“He’s got a weak spot. We’re boys, we all have weak spots.”

“Do I want to ask what the weak spot is?”

“Ehhhhh best not.” Tom’s face was squinted up.

“Best not?”

“No.”

Another knock at the front door.

“That’s Ben.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I hissed.

Tom started first, giggling, before his laughter became a roar. He disappeared upstairs, leaving me to deal with the fact that I had a very unhappy Ben at the front door. I stood, frozen on the spot, unsure of whether to entertain his knocking.

In the end, I took Tom’s lead and followed him upstairs.

“Holy shit,” Tom gasped.

“What?”

“Look at this.” He waved me over to the window.

Opening up in front of us was a scene of comical proportions. Reporters were clearly a dime a dozen, flashbulbs and news vans parked out in the street, while Ben made his way through the pack to get into his front door.

“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” I mumbled.

 


	31. Chapter 31

Tom was stuck at my place for the night, and offered to take the couch in favour of the bed. Comical, I thought, considering he’d seen it all before anyway, and those were his words. He couldn’t go anywhere lest he felt the need to end up stuck in the middle of a media throng.

Ben belted on the door a few more times before disappearing back to his house. His situation had been blown wide open, and had sparked talk of similar situations with other actors in the Hollywood circle.

Sadly, I couldn’t feel sorry for him.

“What do you think’s going on over there?” Tom peeped through the blinds, trying to see if there was any action inside the house.

I laughed. “Honestly? I think if Mama Wanda isn’t there, she’s torn him a new one through the phone line. If she is there, there’ll be mop up for months.”

“Mama Wanda just happens to think you were the greatest thing to ever happen to him.”

I snorted. “Oh well. That’s what you get when you behave like a prat.”

“Do you mind if I stay until this dies down?”

“Do you need to be anywhere?” I asked.

“Nah, not tonight, not tomorrow.”

“Sure, just let Luke know where you are so he doesn’t have a panic attack.”

“Good thinking, 99.” He walked off to the front room to make some phone calls and send emails.

We ordered take out for dinner, the both of us looking like naughty children as we tried to sneak a look at whether or not anything was still happening outside. By the time dinner arrived, the crowd had died down and there were a scant few news vans outside, everyone else had left.

As much as I liked to think we’d be left alone for the night, that wasn’t going to be the case. The lights were off, and the sitting room lit only by the glow of the fireplace and the television when the rain started. Slowly at first, then large heaving blobs smashed against the windows and doors.

The wind picked up and the side gate could be heard creaking and cracking in the wind. I placed my dinner on the side table and moved to check the gate.

“You aren’t going out in this, are you?” Tom queried as I left the room.

“No, no, just checking. It sounds like the...”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ben’s coming,” I answered. “And he’s not happy.”

I latched the door, locking it quickly. The look on his face was genuine anger, ready to lash out at everyone except himself for the situation he found himself in.

“Open the door, please.”

I shook my head.

“Annabelle, please open the door, I need to speak to Tom.”

“It’s okay, I’ll go,” Tom called.

He presented himself at the sliding door, stepping out under the small pergola.

“Just get it over and done with,” Tom sighed.

“Get what over and done with?” Ben snapped.

“Go on, punch me. That’s why you’re here.”

“No one needs to punch anyone,” I spoke up.

“What makes you think I’m here to hit you?” Ben ignored me completely.

“Well you aren’t here for milk and cookies, are you? Go on and let all those nasty, angry feelings out. You’ll feel _so_ much better,” Tom goaded him. “In fact, if you do it just here on my left cheek, you’ll safe make up having to apply fake bruises next week.”

At that, Ben shoved him out into the rain.

“Oh, we’re gonna do it like this, okay,” Tom laughed. “Come on, Khan, give it all you got.”

Another shove from Ben and Tom lost his footing, falling backwards into a puddle.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to sleep naked tonight, love.” Tom shrugged in my direction.

Ben watched as Tom approached. “Go on,” Ben tempted.

“I’m not hitting you, I don’t have any beef with you.”

“Maybe we should all just go inside?” I suggested.

If Ben’s head could snap around to me any quicker, I’m sure it would’ve dropped off and rolled across the pavement. The two of them stood, soaked to the core, very much like an Ice Bucket Challenge in my backyard.

Tom reached up with a solitary finger and flicked the end of Ben’s nose. That was all it took, and Ben swung around with an open hand and slapped Tom upside the head.

“Right,” Tom bit. “Now you’ve asked for it.”

It was on.


	32. Chapter 32

There was no point me trying to stop these two, they wanted to have at it, and so I let them go. There were fists flying, connecting face and body parts. Tom took the first swing, an almighty crack as he got Ben in the jaw. Ben tried to return the jab, but Tom was too quick for him.

They descended into wrestling, yelling and grunting at each other. Most of their carry on was inaudible, or too hard to understand. Of course there were accusations of a set up, jealousy and so forth, but for the most part it was just two boys being very angry at each other.

A punch in the face sent Tom scuttling backwards into a puddle. He leapt up immediately and charged at Ben, knocking him down in a clandestine rugby tackle. Ben had a tight grip around Tom’s belt, and wasn’t giving up for the life of him.

Backwards he went as Tom barrelled him down the yard, until he lost his footing and slipped backwards. Landing on top of Ben, Tom straddled him, his shirt balled up in his fist, and the other fist held behind his head, ready to land another blow on Ben’s face.

“Are you done?” Tom yelled at him.

Ben was puffed, his chest heaving in exhaustion. While they were still for thirty seconds, and there was no chance of me copping a hit to the face, I walked over and grabbed Tom’s hand.

“Enough,” I said.

He turned to look at me.

“It’s not worth it.” I pulled him up. “Plus, I’m not keen that I’m now out in the rain. Ben, go home.”

“But he -.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go home. Calm down. Think about what you’ve just done. You can come back later and fix my grass if need be.”

Tom stood and moved away from Ben, who got to his knees first, and then his feet.

“Well, Old Mate here knows about cutting grass.” Ben nodded at Tom.

Tom snapped, a fist swinging around and making contact with The Mighty Cheekbones. Ben went down like a bag of spuds. We’ve all seen Starter for 10, just like Patrick Watts, down.

“There’s no grass to cut when you insist on treating people like shit, you whiney little bitch.” Tom stormed off into my house, leaving Ben writhing around, hand clutched to his cheek as he tried to pull himself up off the ground again.

I slid the door shut after me, Tom already making for the upstairs bathroom and the shower. I loved how he just helped himself. No shame whatsoever, I caught a flash of a naked backside as he disappeared towards my bedroom, his clothes strewn across the kitchen floor.

Blinds drawn and fireplace stoked, I had no clothes to offer him, so had to make do with washing the dirty ones he’d peeled off. A quick shower and I heard him padding his way back down to the bottom floor.

“By the power of everything good in this world, you had better have a towel around you.”

“Calm down, calm down,” he answered. “Your bathrobe is very toasty.”

He’d commandeered my favourite waffle weave bath robe. And my slippers that matched it, the little shit.

“You’re lucky I didn’t leave the one with the yellow duckies on it hanging up.”

“You know I have no shame and would have worn that,” he teased.

“Your face isn’t so wonderful.” I pulled him to stand under a spotlight in the kitchen.

“You should see the other guy,” he laughed.

“Trust me, it’ll be over here pouting first thing in the morning.” I took some antiseptic and dabbed it on Tom’s face, watching him wince. “Big baby. You aren’t nearly as beaten up as you think.”

“Can I answer the door, then?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Hey?”

“When His Nibs comes pouting, can I answer the door. I might answer wearing this.”

“You are cheeky, Sir,” I laughed with him.

“Oooh, she just called me Sir.”

“I did. What are you gonna do about it?”

“I had one or two ideas.”

“Two’s a bit lame,” I teased. “But first, I need a shower also.”

“Need someone to scrub your back?”

“I might.” I pulled Tom upstairs by the hand.

“Are you serious? No one ever says yes to that.”

“Let’s just say I have a weak spot.”

“Thank heavens for that.”


	33. Chapter 33

“This bed is far too comfortable,” Tom groaned.

“Huh? Don’t wake me up.”

“I said your bed is far too comfy.” He cuddled in close.

“And I said don’t wake me up.”

“You’re not upright yet.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“About what in particular?”

“Ben?”

“He made his bed. He’ll come round.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. He’s a giant idiot, he’ll be fine. Give it a week or so to calm down.”

“Can you make me a pot of tea?”

“What’d your last slave die of?” Tom rolled over out of bed.

“Refusal to follow orders, I think.”

“How’d you kill him?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I laughed as he pulled on some pants and walked downstairs. “Your tiles are very cold!”

“Like my black little heart,” I called after him.

“Well, not going to argue on that.”

Everything was quiet, the street resembling its usual self as the sun came up and another day got underway. Tom left that night to shoot a film, leaving me to deal with the fallout that was Ben and his situation on my own. At least with the benefit of distance those two idiots could talk on the phone and has their problems out. I, on the other hand, had to deal with him face to face. At least I thought I would.

It took a few days for everything to die down completely, my social media flooded, messages largely ignored, and April chomping at the bit for a catch up. I caught sight of Ben once or twice while I was in my kitchen, his eye and cheekbone bruised and rather unhappy with life, but he was otherwise fine.

The moment everything started dying down, and I’d gotten back on with my writing, he dropped a press release about the situation. Surprisingly, he took full blame for what had happened. Honestly, I didn’t expect that at all. I was waiting to cop the blame for most of it given his behaviour recently. He went so far as to apologise to Tom and I specifically, as well as his parents, and the fans, always about the fans, for lying to them.

He then delivered the apology in person, with trademark Ben humour and style. I was sat in the study, headphones on and music blaring when the doorbell rang. I jumped up and went to see who it was, checking through the peep hole. One giant blue eye was all I could see. I pulled the door open to find Ben, jeans and a white shirt, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Hey.” I opened the screen door.

“Hey,” he began, holding his hand out. “So, I’d like to introduce myself.”

“Oh, you would?”

“I would. My name is Ben, and I’m your new neighbour.”

“Lovely to meet you, Ben.”

“Thank you, and you? I’m not quite sure I caught your name.”

“I didn’t mention it,” I teased.

“Well, I would be most obliged if you’d tell me.”

“Annabelle,” I answered. “My name is Annabelle.”

“My, what a lovely name.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Listen, I’m running a bit short of tea, think I could come in for one?”

“Sure.” I moved out of the way to let him through the door.

Ben stayed for another few hours, talking through a lot of things, a thousand apologies, over and over again. He called Tom and went through the same spiel with him, which was interesting. Tom and I had never had a discussion to determine exactly what we were, and I don’t believe either of us mentioned it to Ben, so I wasn’t about to start.

Wanda called as well, and wanted to catch up for lunch. I told her it might be the done thing once everything died down, but now probably wasn’t a great time. All I wanted at that point in time was for everyone to quieten down for a while and concentrate on healing themselves; even idiot Charlotte deserved to do that.

The only problem with Charlotte is the fact she’s an idiot. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she pulled her next stunt, but I was. She let everything die down for another week and then came out with the concept that she was pregnant, and it was Ben’s.


	34. Chapter 34

Ben’s next move was to apologise to Tom. I wasn’t present, and I said that I didn’t want to be, it was for them to sort out on their own.

A bright new morning, a gorgeous fresh breeze, the doors and windows open, my house spotless, and Tom shows up.

“Come in, you’re making the doorstep look messy.” I ushered him inside.

“Nice how do you do,” he teased.

“What’s happening today?” I asked.

“Lunch with your crazy ass neighbour.” He thumbed in the direction of Ben’s house. “Wants to go out to lunch as means of an apology.”

“So you should go, then.”

“Are you coming?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” I answered. “He’s already been here and done the grovelling apology thing.” I pulled some cups out of the cupboard. “Tea or coffee?”

“Whichever.” He looked over his shoulder continuously.

“What are you in a panic about?”

“Hey?”

“Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?”

“I’m just waiting for a head to pop up over the fence and come raging over because I’m sitting in here.”

“He doesn’t know anything about us.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“No. It’s not his business is it?”

“Well, it might become more obvious if we start going places together.”

“Are we a thing, are we?” I asked.

“Aren’t we?” Tom screwed his face up. “I thought we were.”

“We haven’t really talked about it, have we?” I corrected him. “We just really had a bit of sex and then you went home.”

“Is that all that was to you?”

“No, of course not, but you were too busy being angry at Old Mate over the fence, and then you disappeared to film some stuff, and we hadn’t talked about it, so I assumed that was what you thought of it.”

“Not at all. I just wanted to have this conversation in person instead of on the phone or over text message. I’m sure you’d understand that.”

I sighed heavily.

“Why?” Tom’s eyes lit up. “Is there someone upstairs? Is Ben upstairs?”

“No, there is no one upstairs.” I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Tom stood up. “Just let the dust settle first. We all look like idiots at the moment anyway.”

“As you wish,” I mumbled.

“I’ll come see you after lunch, let you know what happens.”

“No worries.” I smiled.

“See ya.” Tom kissed me on the cheek and headed out the front door.

While they were out, while I knew I was alone, I packed up and left. I took a weeks’ worth of clothes, my laptop and notebooks, locked the house up and got onto the first bus and left. There’s always one or two people that are sure they know who they’re looking at and, when I first got into writing, I hardly imagined that would ever happen to me. However, thanks to my neighbour and his crazy friends I was now tabloid fodder.

Not a fan.

Mum and Dad’s was the perfect hideout. Ben had never been there, Tom had never been there, and I was fairly sure neither of them had the address. My parents are a bit more forgiving than the press had been, but that’s their job, right? I settled into a week of being looked after and pampered by my parents and left the two knuckleheads to sort themselves out.

A bit of time out from me, and a bit of time out from them, that was all the three of us needed.

Space.

The final frontier, right?


	35. Chapter 35

“Do you think she’s home?” Tom stood on a chair behind the fence.

Ben pulled himself up next to Tom. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Wonder where she went?” Tom’s voice had the enquiring properties of a child.

“Run away from you, no doubt.”

“Big call, Cumberpeen. You’re the one that fucked it all up.”

“Not entirely my fault,” Ben argued.

“Yes, entirely your fault.” Tom climbed down. “I haven’t even heard from her.”

“Is the not replying to you, either?”

“Why would she reply to you? After all you put her through? I thought she’d at least reply to me.” Tom pushed the side gate open. “Come on, let’s go knock.”

“But the blinds are drawn, that means she’s not home.” Ben trotted through after him.

“Does not, she used to shut them when you came around.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. I was there,” Tom challenged.

“Oh God, really?”

“Not sure God is going to help you on that one, but yes.”

The boys made their way around the outside perimeter of the house. Ben first, followed by Tom close behind. No blinds, curtains, or windows were open, except for those in the kitchen.

“The place is spotless.” Ben’s face dropped.

“She’s not exactly a neat freak, either.”

“Do you think she’s taken off?”

“I think she’s gone somewhere, sure.”

Tom pushed the front gate open and walked around to the front door, Ben behind him humming the James Bond theme.

“Please, you’ll never be Bond.”

“Totally will be.”

“No. You. Won’t. Bond is blonde now. I’ll be Bond.”

“You will not,” Ben scoffed.

A few parcels sat idly on the front doorstep, as well as some articles of mail and, clearly, some fan mail left there by hand.

“Do you ever get this on your doorstep?” Tom asked.

“Once or twice,” Ben answered. “You?”

“No.”

“That’s because no one likes you, because you’re blonde.”

“Whatever,” Tom bit. “What are we going to do about this stuff?”

“Well, I can keep it until she comes back. If she comes back. Do you know who her agent is?” Ben asked.

“I thought you were her BFF?”

“I don’t know who her agent is.”

“Too busy worrying about yourself, that’s why,” Tom bit, picking up an armful of parcels.

“Really? And what’s your excuse for not knowing?” Ben asked.

“She never told me!”

“Yeah, well she never told me, either.”

“So where do you think she is?” Tom asked.

xxx

Getting waited on hand and foot was quite nice, actually. I hadn’t had to lift a finger since I got back to Mum & Dad’s. Mum was keen as mustard to fuss over me and my apparent broken heart.

“Mum, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Silence, heretic, you are not,” she answered. “You’ve been miserable and far too quiet since you arrived.”

“Maybe because I’m writing, that would explain the silence.”

“Hardly. As a child you would yabber on until all hours of the morning.”

“Mum, honestly, I’m fine, go away.”

“Leave her alone, Lynnie,” Dad’s voice travelled from the next room.

“Thanks Daddy-O,” I called.

Mum gave me a tap on the shoulder and left the room. “You two, ganging up on me again.”

“So leave me alone, then, and we won’t!”

My peace and quiet was never going to be long lived. I hadn’t told the terrible two where I’d gone and, while I didn’t expect them to show up, I did imagine one would panic, which would send the other into a freefall, and my phone would be bombarded.

They were more predictable than my maths text books as text after text, and phone call after phone call started lighting up the screen of my phone.

“You going to answer that?” Dad called.

“No,” I answered, switching the phone to silent.

I opened up my messages to find they all followed the same pattern.

 _Are you alright?_ That was Ben.

Are you okay, love? Worried about you, call me xo. That was Tom.

A multitude of missed calls wasn’t going to deter them. Seems Tom was the smarter of the two and got in contact with Michelle, my friend he’d previously taken home for a shag one night. Mum and Dad’s address obtained, and Beavis and Butthead were on a train on their way to come and collect me, the fair maiden.

Tumblr was going to love it if they got their hands on photos of that! Who was I kidding, even I would pay to see that.

xxx

“What do you think she’s doing at her parents?” Tom asked.

“Probably getting away from her douchecanoe neighbour and his crazy sidekick,” Ben mumbled.

“I slept with her.”

“Thank you for driving that point home... again. I hadn’t thought about it in at least an hour.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s my fault anyway.”

“Ahhh, the boy sees sense.” Tom smiled.

xxx

Seeing the taxi pull up outside, I raced downstairs to the front door, intercepting my mother who may or may not have kittens to find those two on her doorstep. I slipped outside quietly to find two naughty little boys walking up the drive toward me.

“Boys.”

At that moment, I was pushed away, Mum had seen them and barrelled past me to get to them.

“Hello, Benjamin, Thomas.”

“Ahhhh, Benedict.” He shook mum’s hand.

“So lovely to meet you, Thomas, come inside.” She literally dragged him inside, leaving Ben and I on the doorstep looking at each other.

“Benjamin,” I whispered.

“Better than bastard, I guess.” He shrugged.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay,” he answered. “It’s all out there now, isn’t it? The dust will settle eventually.”

“You’ll be fine, you’re a tough egg.”

“Not tough enough, apparently.”

“You coming inside? Dad has a man crush on you.” I thumbed behind me, gesturing for him to come in.”

Ben stepped inside, past me, and into the hallway. I had every suspicion I was about to have an interesting afternoon.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to decide who I was going to send Annabelle on a date with this time. Given I've just seen Jurassic World and flung myself into the sun, it was a no-brainer.

Dad ushered Ben into the lounge where he was busily catching up on some television from during the week, and Tom cracked a bottle of wine with Mum in the kitchen. I sat myself back down in the study where I had been all morning.

“Anna, what are you doing?” Mum called. “You’ve got guests, come and entertain them!”

“And not like _that_ , either,” Dad chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. I could always count on Dad for something completely crass yet embarrassing at the same time. I tidied up the chapter I’d been working on and closed the lid on my laptop. Tom was hitched up at the island bench in the kitchen talking to Mum about something she decided she wanted an opinion on, and Lord help me if it wasn’t new colours for the kitchen.

“Tom, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Just helping your mum. Seems she’s been trying to get your attention all day but you’ve not been interested, so I’m taking an active interest.”

“Of course you are.” I patted him on the shoulder as I walked past. “Ben, you alright in there? Need a drink?”

“No, all good. I can still taste the rum from last night.”

“Eeewww,” I groaned. “Haven’t had one of those nights in a while.

“And aren’t we all thankful for that,” Dad mumbled.

“Now, now,” I chided.

“Are you boys staying for lunch?” Mum asked.

“Sure, why not, if that’s okay?”

“That’s more than fine with me,” I answered. “Except I have a lunch date.”

“A date?” Ben and Tom piped up at the same time.

“With who?” Tom asked.

“What do you mean a date?” Ben followed close behind.

Dad laughed. “A date? You?”

“Yeah. Funny about that. I’m a girl, I have a vagina. My date is a boy. He has a penis. Sometimes girls like spending time with boys. How about that?”

“With who?” Tom repeated.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“My word it matters,” Ben walked into the kitchen.

“Sorry, boyfriend, you threw the ticket to the circus away a long time ago.”

“No more getting into the Big Top for you,” Tom laughed.

Ben slapped him across the back of the head.

“Who are you going out with?” Mum asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I stressed. “It’s not really a date, anyway.”

“Yes it is. It was thirty seconds ago,” Ben pressed.

I now had four sets of eyes watching me from one side of the kitchen bench. Mum had her arm latched into Tom’s elbow. Dad looked like he’d taken ownership of Ben. Both Ben and Tom looked like jealous boyfriends, ready to jump at the sound of the doorbell.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Ben asked.

“What do you mean say something?” I spat. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to play the jealous boyfriend now?”

“Oh, I’m not jealous.”

“Yes you are,” Tom added.

“Really? Am I?” Ben stood up straight. “And just what are you doing here, then?”

“I wanted to see that she was okay and hadn’t jumped in the Thames.”

“Sure. Of course. That’s _all_ you wanted.”

“It is!” Tom stressed. “What we did wasn’t... anything serious was it?”

“Apparently not, no.” I shook my head.

“What do you mean by apparently?” Tom asked.

“Don’t worry about what I mean.”

“I will worry about what you mean,” Ben spoke up.

“Oh for Pete’s sake.”

The doorbell rang and they both ran to answer it. I collected my jacket and purse and moved to join them, only to find them both standing there agape at the man standing at the front door.

“Boys.” I smiled. “Have you met Chris?”

“Chris Pratt?” Tom choked.

“A yank?” Ben looked at me.


	37. Chapter 37

The cinema was darkened. That magical world you disappear into as you sit in the chair and wait for the promise of the director, taking you away to a special place, a contract entered into by yourself and the director.

I’m probably considered a little strange, as I like to sit on an outer seat. Makes it easy for a) a quick getaway and b) toilet runs, which I guess fall under a) anyway.

“How good is this?” Chris leaned in as the opening credits rolled.

I looked around and back at him. “Are we it?”

“We are totally it.” He held up his hand for a high-five.

“You’re living in a river in Egypt.” The doors to the cinema opened, and a voice trailed in.

“Hey?”

“Denial,” the voice spoke up again.

“What, and she wants you, too, does she?”

Oh God. It was Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I swung around in my seat to glare at them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snarled.

“We are your chaperones,” Ben offered.

“Chaperones?” Chris turned around. “Are you two serious?”

“We want to make sure you don’t molest her.” Tom grinned.

“What? As opposed to make her look like a complete fool in the tabloids? I might be a yank, but I’m not dumb,” Chris answered. “The both of you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

I stood up and looked at Chris. “You really want to watch this? I’m kinda hungry.”

“Me too.” He stood and followed me out of the cinema.

xxx

“Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re still talking to those two. Why are they even here?” Chris looked at me.

“Your guess is as good as mine. One was funny, and I ended up feeling sorry for the other, I guess.”

“Can’t tell which one which would be, though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m at that point, too.” I screwed my nose up and Chris laughed. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

“You got that right.” He smiled. “So, tell me a bit more about the Annabelle that doesn’t get mentioned in the press.”

xxx

I returned to Mum and Dad’s later that afternoon to find my idiot friends relaxing in the lounge with my parents.

“Do either of you two want to explain what that was about?” I demanded.

“What what was about?” Ben didn’t take his eyes off the television.

“If you can’t even look at me, you can leave.”

“Anna, don’t be horrible to him, he’s been through a lot.”

“Oh you _are_ kidding me, aren’t you?” I looked at my mum. Good to see whose side she’d just taken.

“We just wanted to make sure you were safe.” Tom gesticulated with his hands. “We don’t know him, and we haven’t met his parents, so we just wanted to keep an eye on you.”

“The both of you should probably go,” I answered him.

“They’re not going, they’re staying for dinner.” Mum walked around into the kitchen. “They’re clearly concerned about your wellbeing, so ... you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Why is it that I’m the only one in this house that thinks this situation is nuts? I’ve fucked the both of you, if you don’t remember.”

Ben and Tom looked at each other and screwed their faces up.

“I was there first,” Ben giggled.

“Oh come on!” I threw my hands up in the air. “And now you’re both taking some type of ownership over me? How is this fair? Chris likely won’t come back.”

“He’s an American,” Ben mumbled.

“No shit, Sherlock!” I shouted, without even thinking.

Tom snorted. “Sherly you can’t be serious.”

“Leave. Both of you leave.”

“I’m staying for dinner. Mum said I could,” Tom sniggered.

“She’s my mum, not your mum! So what’s the deal with you two? You’re going to keep scaring off potential suitors now, are you? Jealousy’s a curse, you know, and it’s not like you need any worse luck this year.”

“Annabelle, calm down!” Mum shouted from the kitchen.

I looked at the scene around me. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever witnessed in such a long time. I was being driven out of everywhere I felt comfortable; first my house, then my date, and now my parent’s house.

“Right, I’m staying for dinner, and then I’m going home,” I announced.

“Want a lift?” Ben’s face popped over the back of the couch.

I threw a pair of socks at him.


	38. Chapter 38

I wasted no time packing up after dinner. I didn’t want to leave it too late to get the train back to London, and I was in no mood to spend any more time with The Twits. Roald Dahl would probably spin in his grave if he heard me use that term for those two, but they truly were.

“I can’t believe you two. Thanks for ruining my date,” I grumbled as I stuffed the last of my washing from the clothes horse into my bag.

“Thought you said it wasn’t a date?” Ben asked.

“You know what, Bitch? Just leave me alone. You dumped me, if you’ll remember. You have no rights to me anymore. And Tom, I don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing here. Honest to God.”

“What if there’s not God?” Ben continued.

I slapped him across the back of the head and walked out through the kitchen. “And, you, Mum, stop sticking up for him. You’re an idiot, too.”

I’d hardly made the corner when Tom came running at me.

“Annabelle!”

I turned to find him running down the street after me, his breath floating in the air as he puffed in and out. It really wasn’t a very becoming look for him.

“Tom, what? Honestly? I thought we were good?”

“We are,” he puffed. “Don’t you get it?”

“Get what? I went on a date today and you two showed up and sat in the back row. Are you both cracked? Honestly? Do I need to have you committed?”

He waved his hands frantically. “No, no, no.”

“Then what is it? Are you both about to propose an open marriage of some sort?”

“I wouldn’t half mind that,” he chuckled. “But no.”

“Then what?”

“Number Two Friend.”

“What are you talking about?”

“April O’Neil.”

“What about her?”

“Number Two Friend Anon.”

“What about it?” I asked.

“Me.” Tom pointed back at himself.

“What?!” I shrieked.

“Shhh, he doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t know. I’m just shadowing him for information.”

“What on Earth game are you playing, Tom?”

“I’m trying to pick up little titbits. He’s still not telling the whole truth. I want that truth out, I want everyone to know he treated you like crap.”

“Everyone does know, though.”

“No, they only know what he’ll admit to. They don’t know _everything._ ”

“Why now?” I asked. “Why is this important for you now? You told me off once upon a time for doing exactly what you’re doing, which is feeding the sceptics.”

“They aren’t sceptics if they’re right, are they?”

I rubbed my forehead. “Can’t we just let it go? Ben goes his way, learns his lesson, let’s the dust settle and we start again?”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “I won’t see you treated like this.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Because I love you.”

“Huh?” My brain had gone blanker than an Etch-a-Sketch on a nosedive.

“You mean it’s not as plain as the nose on your face? I said I love you,” he answered, kissing me under the orange street light.


	39. Chapter 39

I pulled back first, to find Ben at the opposite end of the street. It was only a silhouette but with that lanky frame and long head, it couldn’t be anyone other than him. I looked at Tom, and back at Ben again.

I turned and walked away. My brain had gone blank, and anything I said at that point may not have made sense. It also might have gotten me into trouble, so I said nothing and walked away. Tom scuttled after me quickly, Ben not far behind him.

“Annabelle, wait, I want to talk to you about this.” Tom skipped onto the platform behind me.

“I can’t talk to you about this right now, Tom.”

“Why not?”

“Because what am I supposed to believe anymore?” The low hum signalled a train approaching on the tracks.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to believe? I just told you. I’ve got no reason to make that up.”

“I can’t do this right now.”

“But why? I want to talk about this with you. I’m sorry I followed you out here, it wasn’t about you.”

Ben barrelled onto the platform after us as the train approached. He looked at Tom, then looked at me, and back at Tom again.

“What have I missed?” he asked.

“The both of you need to leave me alone for a little while. I need time out to sort of my own head.”

“Can I come around?” Ben asked.

“Are you stupid, son?” I looked at him.

“No.”

I heard the familial ding of train doors opening and made my exit, leaving The Twits on the platform of the train station as they watched the train disappear into the night.

xxx

I had a fencing contractor come out during the week, and he repaired the fence where the gate had been. It was removed and had palings replaced where it had been.

“So, this is the famous gate, is it?” he looked at me with a wry smile.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“The famous gate; I’ve read about it in pap magazines. It’s said that Benedict uses it for late night visits.”

“Is that so?” I asked. “First I heard of it.”

“So, you’re not with him, then?”

“No,” I answered. “Why do you think you’re out here fixing the thing in the first place?”

I’d been asked to do a magazine interview by my agent. Apparently getting yourself involved in the craziest celebrity romance of the year does wonders for your public profile. As a result, I went out later that afternoon and met a reporter at a cafe for a sit down interview.

It had very little to do with me, or my work, and everything to do with Ben, Tom and the tarantula, I mean, Charlotte.

Fuck it, I threw at least two of them in a moat. I’m sure the reporter thought he was getting the story of the year. I disengaged my brain, and overly engaged my mouth. The worst part was, once I started, I couldn’t stop; the words just poured out. I left Tom out of it for the most part, because that was hardly fair on him, but the other two, too bad so sad for them.

I knew exactly when the interview had been published; I had a rather unhappy Cumberbatch on the back doorstep one morning demanding to be let in.

“Open the door!”

“No.” I stood at the door shaking my head.

“Open the door, Annabelle!”

“No.” I answered again.

“Is this really what you think of me?”

“At the moment, yes.” I nodded. “Now, go home and deal with it.”

I watched as the scaled the fence back over into his yard, tail between his legs. I guess he didn’t like it when the shoe was under the other foot. I wondered if it was warm underneath the bus I’d just thrown him under.


	40. Chapter 40

**Interview of the Week: Annabelle Weir**

More infamous than famous at the moment, author Annabelle Weir sits down to chat with entertainment reporter Stephen Blair.

**_SB: How have you been Annabelle?_ **

AW: Well thank you, yourself?

**_SB: Great. Now, your latest book Error of Judgement has rocketed to the top of the iBooks bestseller list. Why do you think that is?_ **

AW: I’d hope it’s because it’s a good book. It’s part mystery, part suspense, and a dash of romance thrown in for good measure.

**_SB: Do you think it has anything to do with your association with a particular Benedict Cumberbatch?_ **

AW: So you’re saying The Cumberbatch Effect? I guess you could attribute some of it to that, yes. In all honesty, though, I’d hope people were buying my books because they enjoy them and not because I’m associated with an apparent celebrity.

**_SB: Apparent?_ **

AW: Well, he apparently is a celebrity, is he not?

**_SB: Not negative connotations there?_ **

AW: Of course, none whatsoever. I wish him and... whoever all the best in the future.

**_SB: Can we talk about that for a moment?_ **

AW: Sure. I’m game.

**_SB: So you were dating Cumberbatch, your neighbour, for how long?_ **

AW: Long enough. Some might say too long.

**_SB: Months? Weeks?_ **

AW: Closer to months.

**_SB: Right. Then he dumped you._ **

AW: Well, no he didn’t dump me. I found out I was no longer needed via the marvels of the Internet.

**_SB: How was that?_ **

AW: I had an article retweeted to me that stated he was engaged to Charlotte, Charlie, whoever.

**_SB: So, no discussion with you prior?_ **

AW: None.

**_SB: Not very... gentlemanly._ **

AW: You’d be surprised what’s not very gentlemanly about him.

**_SB: Are you prepared to talk about it?_ **

AW: After we’re done talking about my book, sure.

**_SB: Right, well let’s get back to that, shall we?_ **

AW: Let’s do this.

**_SB: So this is book number...?_ **

AW: I’ve lost count, to be honest. It’s a couple now.

**_SB: And it’s had film rights sold for it already?_ **

AW: Not quite yet, I believe there are negotiations going on at the moment.

**_SB: Now, we said before that your sales had skyrocketed recently._ **

AW: We did, the more people reading the better.

**_SB: Is piracy an issue for you?_ **

AW: Hell yes, it’s an issue for everyone in the arts. Even painters and drawers.

**_SB: Does it affect you?_ **

AW: Of course it does. I’m sure there’s revenue not coming in from that, but that’s life isn’t it? You tap one on the head and ten more spring up in its place. You can’t stop it. It’s the internet.

**_SB: Speaking of the internet._ **

AW: Yep.

**_SB: You still handle all of your own social media._ **

AW: At the moment, yes, but I think that might change following recent events.

**_SB: You’re currently sitting on top of the UK Best Seller’s List. How does that feel?_ **

AW: Feels great. It’s wonderful to have my work validated. Hopefully people are enjoying what I’m writing.

**_SB: Do you know if Cumberbatch has read any of your books?_ **

AW: I believe he’s read a few, yes.

**_SB: Did he enjoy them?_ **

AW: I think so. I might ask him one day. He’s not that hard to please, though, apparently.

**_SB: Are you on speaking terms?_ **

AW: I wish we weren’t.

**_SB: That’s a bold statement._ **

AW: It’s the truth. It’d make life easier. There’s only so many times you can be slapped in the face by someone you thought had your back at one point. I jumped off that train a long time ago. The only person that can help him is himself now.

**_SB: Did you realise something wasn’t right about his engagement?_ **

AW: The whole world did, didn’t they?

**_SB: Nothing was reported in the media until he had a blow up in a restaurant._ **

AW: I don’t know why not. Don’t the media report the truth anymore? It was so obviously a desperate marketing stunt for one or both of their films.

**_SB: They did live together._ **

AW: No they didn’t.

**_SB: According to The Times, they were living together._ **

AW: I live next door to him. I can assure you no one moved in or out of that house.

**_SB: That’s not the reports that were given to the media._ **

AW: Yeah and the media were also told that they were engaged and in true love as well, so, you know. Believe what you want.

**_SB: Is the friendship salvageable, do you think?_ **

AW: Sure, when he stops trying to cock-block me.

**_SB: I’m sorry?_ **

AW: Let’s just say he decided to chaperone me on a date last week. Wasn’t appreciated.

**_SB: Who were you on a date with?_ **

AW: Doesn’t matter who, what matters is he thinks he can hang around and tell me what to do while he can’t even sort his own shit out.

**_SB: Do you know his parents?_ **

AW: Ben’s? Yeah, great people. Beautiful people. I feel sorry for them.

**_SB: Did they know his engagement was fake?_ **

AW: I don’t think so, I think Ben lied to them as well. Wanda was fairly upset when it all went down.

**_SB: How about Tom Hiddleston? What role has he played in all of this?_ **

AW: Tom? He’s a little bit crazy, a little bit loveable, and has been a great support and friend to Benedict, even when both of them didn’t deserve it.

**_SB: Is there another story in there?_ **

AW: Maybe another day, I’ve got another appointment to be at.


	41. Chapter 41

I flew downstairs at the sound of a fist beating on my front door. Tom. It was a week after the interview had hit the papers and it was still doing the rounds online. I was being tagged and mentioned left, right, and centre on Twitter and Facebook as a result. I got a lot of backlash from the ‘nanny’ element of the fandom, but that’s what happens. That’s life.

“Hi.” I swung the door open and looked at him.

“Heya.” He came bounding through the door, helping himself to the kitchen. “Great interview.”

“Hey?”

“The interview you did, it was _great_.”

“Was it?” I sat at my kitchen bench and watched as he sorted himself with the kettle and tea cups, as per usual.

He was such an odd little fellow to try and work out. I don’t think I’d been thoroughly kind to him in the interview either. Of course, he’d hardly rated a mention, but what I’d said hadn’t been nice, really. Still, a spring in his step and a smile.

“Tom, you did _read_ the interview, didn’t you?” I asked.

“No, but I heard it’s great.” He rounded the bench and tried to kiss me.

I pushed him away with a hand on the chest. “I wasn’t exactly kind to you, either.”

“I heard about that. I was a shit, I know. I shouldn’t have followed you with Ben, and I _am_ sorry, but I meant every word of what I said.”

I said nothing more as Tom took the bar stool next to me. I watched his eyes dart around the house, eventually settling on the backyard.

“No fence,” he mused.

“Gone.”

“No going back?”

“Tom, I’m sick of it. I deserve to be treated better than I have been. Yes, I got involved, and I shouldn’t have to such an extent, but still, I deserve better. That includes from you.”

He nodded slowly, my words sinking in somewhere... maybe his brain. “I am sorry.”

“I know, Tom.”

“So what are we going to do about... you know...?”

“About your declaration of love?” I smiled as he looked at me sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “You can stop looking at me like that, firstly. It’s too cute, and I’m in no mood to have my hormones toyed with.”

A devious smile spread. “What about just your body, then?”

“You know what? I have a family lunch next weekend.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“If you’re serious about this, I want to start fresh, and I want to do things properly.”

“I want to date properly. You’re going to have to go the whole nine yards. You have some ground to make up for.”

“You know, you aren’t exactly blameless in all of this, either. You could have just let it go.”

“I could have, yes, but that also tells people that it’s okay to treat me like crap. Not anymore.”

Tom rubbed his hands together. “So, tell me... what does this dating properly business entail?”

“Well, we can start with next weekend, can’t we?”

“Okay.” He placed his tea cup on the bench. “What do you want me to do?”


	42. Chapter 42

Tom arrived on the doorstep right on the dot of midday. On perfect time. He wore freshly washed and pressed grey trousers (well fitted if you must know), a crisp white shirt, a tie and a waistcoat.

“You’re joking me,” I mumbled as I watched him approach the front door.

I said dating properly, I didn’t imply a dress code. I had a nice summer dress on, even though the weather was still a bit on the cool side.

“’Allo, ‘allo.” I pulled the door open and watched as he spread himself out in the door frame, arms and legs everywhere.

“Is this proper enough for you?” He smiled.

“You’re a dickhead.”

“Hmmm, no. You said properly, and here I am.” He pushed in past me towards the living room. “Are you ready to go? Are you dressed properly? I’d hope you’d be maintaining the same standards you’ve set out for me.”

“I didn’t give you a dress code, you tit.”

“Hmmm, maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.” He crossed his legs over on the couch and started flicking through a manuscript on the couch.

“Right there, are you?” I snatched it back and slapped his shoulder with it. “And yes, I’m dressed to go.”

“Are you really?”

“Got a problem with a dress?”

“Well... no... they are easy access, I guess.” He grinned.

“Easy access? You guess? Gosh you’re a treat today, aren’t you?”

“Anna-stella-bella, relax.”

I raised my eyebrows and sorted my handbag.

“You’re nervous.” Tom smiled.

“I am not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Okay, a little bit.”

“Well, you are taking someone completely handsome and charming to lunch with you.”

“Yep, and then there’s you.” I smiled. “Coming?”

“Already?”

“Yessir.”

“Am I driving?” Tom waited for me to lock the house.

“Unless you want to catch the train.”

“Yeah, I think we’ll take the Jag actually.”

“Sometimes you’re the smartest man I know.” I patted him on the shoulder and gave him my best sarcastic smile.

XXX

Tom did a strange little preen each time he got out of his car. The jacket was shucked over his shoulders, the tie was straightened underneath the waistcoat and the jacket buttons were done up. Even I had to admit, he looked bloody fantastic.

I had no worries about him being accepted into the massive fold that was my family. My family was large, both my parents had plenty of siblings, I had plenty of cousins, and two older brothers.

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Tom whispered.

I smiled.

“Cheeky shit,” he offered.

“You nervous, are you?”

“Not me.”

“Mr. FancyCar.” Oscar extended his hand to shake Tom’s. “Hello.”

“Thomas,” Tom said.

“Ohhh Thomas, fancy,” I teased. “Tom, this is my oldest brother, Oscar. Matt is around here somewhere.”

“Oscar, Matthew, Annabelle, got it.” He nodded.

“So, what do you do for a crust?” Oscar looked at him, deadpan.

“Sometimes I don’t wash for a week,” Tom answered, just as stony faced as Oscar.

“Oh, I like him.” And on with the back slapping and handshaking again before Tom was enveloped into the fold that was my brothers.

“He’s very cute,” my grandmother teased as she sat next to me with her plate of lunch, leaving Tom next to a female cousin who was hardly seventeen, but completely in love.

“He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Very charming,” she continued. “We had a lovely chat about you.”

“About me?” I pointed back at myself. “Whatever for?”

“He was very curious about learning more about you. He’s so very lovely. I hope you’re going to keep this one. Benjamin was lovely to look at, but had a rather large head, didn’t he?”

“How do you know about Ben?” I scoffed. “And it’s Benedict.”

“Your mother rang me, more than once I might add.”

“Oh that’s great.” I scoffed. “Ben is lovely, he just needs to sort himself out.”

“His eyes were too close together. I don’t want great grandchildren with strange eyes. Now Thomas, he’s lovely.”

“Thank you Nanna, for your study in genetics.”

“Well, it’s about time, you know. I’m not getting any younger, you’re not getting any younger. You career women these days, put everything off for the pounds, but soon you will be too old and no one will want you, and you’ll die being surrounded by cats who will eat you.”

“I’m not going to die surrounded by cats that are going to eat me!” I shrieked.

“Yes you are.” Matt and Oscar answered in unison.

I looked to Tom for support. Yeah, right. He was having a love affair with a plate of pasta if the look on his face was anything to go by. My cousin Bethany was down the other end of the table taking sneaky photos and mentally planning her wedding to Loki.

“Beth.” I looked at her.

“What?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“You know what.”

Tom looked up and around. “What’s going on?”

“Can I get a photo of you with Beth, would that be okay?”

“Of course.”

“I’m calling family photo!” Oscar called. “Who brought a camera?”

Mum ran upstairs and grabbed a camera from the study. We never did family photos, so I’ll call this the ‘Thomas Effect’. Tom offered to take the photo, but was promptly told to get his behind in the photo with me.

“Howdy, stranger.” He smiled.

“Hello there,” I answered. “Having a good day?”

“Having a great day.”

“Next year, can you please bring a baby with you?” Nanna looked back at me.

“Just like that?” I asked. “I’ll just go and steal one, will I?”

“No, you can have one with Thomas.” She smiled proudly.

I shook my head in amongst the ribbing from everyone else while everyone shuffled into frame for the photo, our newest addition the star attraction, literally.

XXX

“How’d you enjoy today?” We sat in the car outside my house.

“Quite interesting.” Tom smiled.

“Interesting is generally a great term for ‘I’m running as far away from your crazy arse as I can’,” I answered.

“Hardly. Nanna’s keen, though.”

“So’s Beth,” I teased.

“Oh hell,” he groaned. “Don’t mention that.”

“I’ll have a whole class full of teenage girls wanting to visit soon.”

“Good thing I don’t live here, then.”

“I don’t know, you’ve taken up semi permanent residency lately.”

“Did I do okay today?”

“Are you asking for a report card?”

Tom rolled his eyes.

“You did fine.” I smiled. “You were a big hit.”

“I’m asking from your perspective,” he pushed.

“I’m very proud of you,” I answered.

“So we can do this again, then?”

“We can.”

“Do I get to organise the next date, then?”

“Sure.” I nodded. “You can do that.”

“Excellent. Now, get out of my car, you’re making it look messy.”

“See you soon.” I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“You will. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

“Bye.” Tom gave a small wave and engaged first gear.

“Goodnight.” I tapped the roof of the car and walked up the footpath towards my house.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said this before, but after some *hate* I've received the last few days, I'd like to reiterate: 
> 
> *This is a work of fictional parody*. 
> 
> I'm not stating my opinion either way on what is/isn't happening in the real life land of the Cumberbatch, I'm simply having fun with all the theories that are flying around in four thousand different directions. 
> 
> If you can't understand the difference between fictional parody, and real life, then maybe this story isn't for you. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos so far, I'm glad we're all having a bit of fun with this. :) 
> 
> Cheers!

I was too scared to ask what Tom had planned and when, so I just went with the flow. I didn’t hound him on the phone, because I had plenty of my own stuff to do anyway, and just kept on with life, kept my head down and did my own thing.

Media attention started to die right off, and Ben was doing ‘all the right things’ to try and put things right in his world, and make up for what had happened. Charlotte had moved onto the next big star she could latch onto and, unlike with Ben, it seemed to be a genuine relationship.

I missed him. Even with all the crap, all the hurt, and all the drama that had gone on before, I still missed his friendship, so I took the (stupid?) step of asking him to catch up for a coffee at a local cafe.

I found him sitting at a table outside, flat cap on, those purple jeans he wears everywhere, and an oversized jumper. Well, it was either oversized, or he was super thing at the moment. I dropped my backpack under the table and sat down at the bench seat.

“Hey.” I smiled.

“Hey,” he answered. “This is a nice surprise.”

I shrugged. “Well, you know. How are you?”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Slowly, slowly.”

“It takes a long time to build something up. It’s very quick to tear it down, but building it is hard, we both know that.”

“I ordered you a coffee, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not.” I held onto my own elbows and leaned into the table. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Go for it.” He mirrored my posture.

“No, I mean, I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you, I missed your friendship.”

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised?” I asked.

“Well, I kind of fucked up in an epic way.”

“Yeah, but I think we all did, didn’t we?” I questioned as coffees were brought over. “I shouldn’t have gotten as involved as I did, neither should Tom, you were a whiney assed bitch, I was a push over, Tom just wanted to have sex with everything. So, you know, we all kind of fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it, though?”

“In time, it’ll be fine. Stop beating yourself up with it, start pushing forward, okay? You’ve lost a lot, but you can still win it back.”

“I want to have a family. No one will touch me after that.”

“Funny you should mention families,” I chuckled.

“Really? Why?”

“How are your parents?” I asked.

“They’re good. I spent a bit of time out with them, had a really good chat to Dad, Mum’s still mad as a cut snake, but you get that.”

“She’ll be okay,” I offered.

“Have you spoken to her?”

“Yeah, she called the other night.”

“So this is why you’re here today?” he asked.

“No. I’m here because I miss you. You were a good friend, we had a lot of fun, before all that sex business got in the way.”

“That does tend to stuff things up, doesn’t it?”

“It did for us.” I nodded.

We were quiet a few moments, looking over a menu that neither of us intended ordering from.

“How’s Tom?” Ben asked.

“He told me he loves me.” I gave Ben a quizzical look.

“Wow, okay.” He nodded, lips pursed shut.

“Don’t give me Tietjens face, Ben.”

“Beg yours?”

“Tietjens face. Your purse your lips shut and your eyes water. I didn’t tell you to upset you.”

“So why did you tell me then?” His eyes rolled around a bit before settling on me again.

“Because I thought you should know. I take it you haven’t seen Tom?”

“No,” Ben grumbled. “I haven’t.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. I should, I guess, shouldn’t I? Part of all the atoning for my sins business, I guess.”

“Shall I ask him to call you?”

“I take it you’re going to see him shortly, then?”

XXX

I saw Tom the following Saturday. My only instruction came via text message. I had to gather my mother and my grandmother at my house, and they had to dress nicely. That included me. Any return messages asking for more details were met with defiance and replies of ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out’.

A car arrived to drive us to our lunch destination at The Ritz. Tom was already there and waiting for us when we arrived. Nanna buzzed over to him immediately, grabbing onto him like he was the only thing keeping her on this mortal coil. Hell, for all we knew, he probably was.

“How have you been Thomas?”

“Very well thank you, Nanna, how have you been? You’re looking splendidly well, much better than Anna, I must say.”

Nanna went pinker than fairy floss. “Stop it, you rascal.”

Tom helped Nanna into her chair before he turned his attention to me, Mum already helping herself to a seat and a glass of champagne.

“How are you?”

“Don’t smile at me like that, Loki,” I teased.

“What?”

“You’re doing your best Loki with that face.” I smiled.

A small laugh escaped him. “I do apologise, I’ll do my best to be El Handsome-oh Thomas.”

“You’re already that.”

“Shut up, Nanna.” I glared at her.

On his best behaviour, Tom pulled out all the stops. He listened to both my mother and grandmother bail him up and ask him about what he wanted from his life, what his plans were, how many children he planned on having, and all those important questions that you really must get out of the way on the second ‘official’ date.

“Have you brought your dowry with you today?” Nanna asked. “I’m getting old, and I don’t have time to fuck around.”

I coughed, little bits of cake flying out of my mouth. She was as deadpan as they came, but a small smile cracked her lips apart and she was laughing with Tom. Forget about The Only Way Is Essex, we had The Only Way is Grandma. Honestly.

“Well, I was thinking of a rather large family.” Tom looked at her sternly. “You granddaughter has a fine constitution and wonderful child bearing hips. I thought we could try for at least fifteen children, but only if you offer your baby sitting duties while she’s busy writing her next best seller.”

“Fifteen? You better learn to wrap it up, son.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Tom and Nanna bounce off of each other. She might’ve been cheeky, but he took it all in good humour and came back with just as much force as she gave off. It was glorious, actually.

“I did express my dismay to our Annabelle the other day.” Nanna held Tom’s hands. “I told her she needed to start having children, and to stop being selfish with her career. You’ll do just finely, you’re a strapping lad, and I’ll admit, I’ve watched The Avengers more times than I care to admit.”

Had someone lit a fire in the restaurant? No? It was just me being embarrassed by my family again.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Tom smiled.

“And Loki’s sceptre, I’m sure that’s fine, is it?”

“Nanna!”

“Mum!”

Tom’s chin dropped into his chest and his shoulders shook while he laughed. I decided Nanna needed testing for senility.

“I can assure you that Loki’s sceptre is perfectly fine and functional,” Tom managed between a fit of the giggles.

The laughing continued the entire trip home. After a fine selection of high tea and champagne, Mum and Nanna got picked up while Tom and I drove home in his car. Watching the world pass by from the passenger window, I snorted and looked at Tom.

“Loki’s sceptre.”

“She’s your family.” He smiled. “She’s nutters, butters.”

“I’m having her testing for senility.”

“That Benjamin looks like a lizard,” Tom impersonated.

“Oh she didn’t?!”

“Oh, she did.”

“Poor Ben.”

“You caught up with him during the week?” Tom asked.

“Yeah. I miss him.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is. I trust you, it’s all good.”

And it was. It was definitely all good.


	44. Chapter 44

It wasn’t long before life decided to throw me another curveball. I’d been in London eighteen months. It had been a lifetime of craziness, laughs, tears and anger, but I don’t I would change anything for the world. As strange as that might seem, my life had changed in leaps and bounds and a few speed hump along the way were a small price to pay.

I’d relaxed on the writing front. Instead of spending hours religiously every day trying to churn something out, I kept my writing to a few hours each night and let online sales do the rest. Maybe it was laziness, or maybe I was just enjoying the fruits of my labour.

Both Ben and Tom had been away filming. Ben was in Scotland, and Tom was in the United States, and that proved to be both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing in that it allowed all the hoopla surrounding them to die down, and allowed me to assess the situation properly with some close friends; throughout this mess they’d been the people I’d neglected the most. It also allowed me something else.

Freedom.

Freedom from press, intrusion, stress, drama and daily annoyances. I came to relish this to the point that I wasn’t looking forward to either of the boys coming home, regardless of how my friendships with both of them had been thriving.

For Ben and me it was like old times. We laughed and joked and confided in each other, him more so than I, and that was a nice balance to have back again.

Tom and I had stalled, so to speak. We’d had dinner a few times, but the fire hadn’t sparked. There was no anger or acrimony, it was just something that said to me that maybe it wasn’t ‘our time’ so to speak. I wasn’t so much as relieved, to be perfectly honest. I mean, the fangirl dream of being stuck in a love triangle between The Hiddles and The Batch is not as much fun as some people might make out.

In fact, it’s downright exhausting.

Yet, I was still thrown into a fit of personal turmoil when my agent called.

“Annabelle, how are you?” Jane exclaimed down the line.

“Hi Jane!” I huddled into the corner of the couch and waited to be told I’d fucked up somehow.

“How are you? How’s things on the home front?”

“Good,” I answered slowly; she didn’t normally ask me about ‘the home front’.

“Anyone in your life at the moment?”

“No, I don’t believe there is.”

“What about Tom?” she pouted.

“Hmmm sort of, maybe, prefer not to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay, that’s fine,” she agreed. “Listen, the reason I ask is that I have an offer for you.”

“You do?”

“I do, and I think it’s a once in a lifetime and I think you should take it up.”

“Oh, okay. What are we talking about? Switching publishers? Book tour? Comic Con? I can push out a fantasy if that’ll get me into a Comic Con, I’ve always wanted to attend as a guest.” I was chomping at the bit for what she had to offer.

“A film studio wants a five picture deal.”

“Right, okay.” I nodded, regardless of the fact that she could see me or not.

“Are you hearing me?”

“Yeah, five movie deal, but I need you to explain more.” Suddenly my heart was thumping in my ears.

“So Paramount wants you to co-write five film scripts for them, based on your books.”

“Which five?”

“The Magnum Trilogy.”

“Right, okay, so they want to turn that into five films, do they?”

“They do.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. In my mind I always thought there was a bit much in them to be just three films if that was ever going to happen.

“What do you think?”

“It sounds good, but you’re a bit light on details. What’s the catch, though?”

“The catch is that the studio is going to pay your rent for twelve months, eighteen months if you need it, and look after you in that respect.”

“I have a mortgage, though, not rent.”

“In America.”

Well, that was out of left field. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Jane asked. “What do you think?”

I didn’t know what I thought.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I'm back! It's taken me a few days, and a new PC as a result, but I'm here.

It took much consultation with a bottle (or two) of wine, my parents and my closest friend Sarah before I could come up with an answer. Realistically, it was the only viable answer, and I would have been stupid to have thought any other answer was right.

“Do you have an answer?” Jane waited eagerly for my response.

“I do.” I took a deep breath. One in, all in, right? “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. What are you thinking of doing with your house? I know you haven’t been there long so we can let it out or sell it, it’s up to you.”

“Sell. I think that would be the better option for everyone, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s up to you, sweetie. I’m sure there’s a list a mile long of women who’d gladly buy your house.”

I laughed. “That’s true. Yeah, I’ll put it on the market quietly.”

“Okay, I’ll let the US of A know, and we’ll start the ball rolling.”

“Do I need to call a real estate agent right now?”

“That’d be a good idea, yeah,” Jane answered.

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

I don’t think I’d even managed to unpack everything from the first time I moved in, so unpacking wouldn’t be a massive obstacle, at least in terms of inanimate objects without thoughts and feelings.

“You can’t leave,” Ben baulked at the suggestion.

“Yeah I can.”

“But, you and me.”

“We aren’t together anymore.”

“I know that, I know, but… oh hell, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Are you upset?” I asked.

“Well, a little bit, yeah.” Ben nodded. “Actually, not even a little bit, a lot.” He waved me inside. “Get off the front porch and come inside.”

“No, thank you. I have a heap of things to organise this afternoon. I have to go into town and see my agents and organise a few things for the move.”

“Can I come too?”

“Why? So you can talk me out of it?”

“Something like that.”

Ben stuck close to me, a sneaky text message sent off to Tom and I had him on the phone at what would’ve been the early hours of the morning for him, in a panic.

“But, love, what are we going to do without you? Who’s going to bring me my chocolate muffins? I’m not going to be in America forever, I’ll need to come home eventually and then there’ll be no Annabelle. I don’t like this one bit.”

I smiled. “I have to do what’s right for me.”

“But staying here is right for you. Surely you can write from your house. Can’t they appoint someone to work with you in London? What about all your friends?”

“It’s not forever, Thomas.”

“Oh but it’ll feel like forever.”

“You two are unbelievable, you know that?”

“How’s that?”

“Never mind,” I puffed. “I’ll see you before you leave America, of that I have no doubt.”

“How’s your mum? What about Nanna? You know I was her closest link to great grandchildren,” Tom teased.

“Oh come on!” I laughed. “They’ll get over it.”

Xxx

“This is bullshit,” Nanna announced. “You’ve got two men bending over for you, and you won’t take either of them. Instead you want to move to another country. Who wants to live in American anyway? Huh? You’ll get fat.”

“Thanks Nanna.”

“I mean, you’ve clearly been taking it too easy already, but you’ll get worse.”

“Thank you so much.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Tom will be there for a little while.”

“Can you get pregnant to him, then? While you’re there, just stop taking the pill, or whatever it is you women do lately.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “No, no I can’t.”

“Don’t you want to be a mother? Or do you want to be dry, barren, unfulfilled in life.”

“Nanna, shut up,” I laughed. “I’m sure I’ll have children.”

“And you get to have sex while you’re making them. Don’t tell me that’s not an added bonus, particularly with Thomas. I’d give him one.”

“See, this is why I don’t need him,” I answered. “Because you already have eyes for him.”

“I have more than eyes for him.” She winked.

“You’re a dirty old woman.” I shook my head.

“Is he… you know… suitable?”

“He is a perfectly fine human being, and I am sure he’ll make someone a fantastic husband one day.”

“So marry him, then.”

“Have you been picking up brochures for nursing homes, Nanna? Ones for the senile, perhaps? You’d fit right in there.”

“Don’t be smart or I’ll give you one.” She shook her fist at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll break your hip, you’ll be good,” I teased. “I’m sure I’ll meet a lovely boy in America.”

“You’re not marrying an American, you’ll marry a good English gentleman.”

“Maybe I’ll find an Englishman in New York.”

“Is that where you’re going?”

“No, LA.”

“Then how are you going to find one in New York.”

“Forget it, Nanna, it’s a song. I’ll find a husband.”

“Make that your priority, will you?”

“Sure thing.” I rolled my eyes and went back to my cup of tea. Nanna went back to yelling at The Fonz on re-runs of Happy Days.

“You could marry The Fonz.”

“He’s about four hundred now,” I mumbled. “I’ll find a husband. How does that work for you? I’ll actively look for one.”

“Correct answer, just not the reptilian one.”

“Ben is lovely, leave him alone.”

“He is wonky.”

“Oh come on, Nanna. Stop it. He’s lovely. He’s beautiful, he’s too bloody nice and gets fooled into things easily, that’s all.”

“So tell him you’re pregnant, he’ll marry you then, won’t he?”

I banged my head on the coffee table in front of me. She wasn’t taking no for an answer any time soon.


	46. Chapter 46

A private listing, and a private sale saw things settled quickly. I started my pack by putting the bigger items in storage. A moving van out in the street attracted the attention of Benedict, who rushed over to find out what was going on.

“Hey.” He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Spit it out,” I teased.

“What’s going on?”

“Uh, putting a few things in storage.”

“So, you’re actually going to go through with this?”

“I am, yeah. I need to think of my career, and I think this is what’s best for me.”

“You can’t do the job from home?”

“I don’t think so, no.” I shook my head. “I’m sure we’ll catch up when you’re over there, or I come back to London. I’m sure you’ll find a lovely girl and be very happy.”

“Hmmm.” He fumbled around a bit longer before disappearing home.

xxx

I had a small farewell party at a private club in London. Food, drinks, friends, family, Ben and Tom, and a DJ kept the night kicking along in fashion. My bags were packed, my house was empty, and all that was left to do was get on the plane and head to LA.

No one knew what time I flew out. I wasn’t dying, I was coming back, it was just for work, so I didn’t see the need for throngs of people at the airport.

It was a crisp morning, the kind that are snap frozen, but with the most amazing burst of warm sunlight in all the different orange hues it could throw up. London was surprisingly quiet, and the cab arrived with minimal of fuss.

“Annabelle!”

I knew that voice anywhere, and turned to find Benedict bouncing through the check in area. I groaned, audibly I think, as I shuffled through closer to the front of the queue, doing my best ‘I don’t know who he’s talking to’ face.

“Annabelle, stop!”

I tight grip on my arm pulled me out of the queue. “What? What do you want?” I hissed. “If you’re here to profess you’re undying love, you can forget it.”

“But,” he stammered. “I do.”

“You do, what?” My eyes boggled. “Realise you’ve been an idiot? You’ve told me that before. Realise you’re sorry? I’ve heard that one, too, but it’s not the same is it? You and me, it’s not like it was before.”

“But I do love you, and I was an idiot, a complete and utter imbecile who will spend the rest of his life making tea at just the correct temperature if you will please come back.”

“No.”

“Annabelle, please. I know you’ve sold your house, but move in with me, we can work things out, start again, we’ll be okay. I promise we’ll be okay, absolute truth, and intimacy, and all of those things, I promise you I’ll make this work for you, for us.”

I shook my head, walked off, and joined the line, again, back at the end.

A raised chatter filled the area, as is common with airports, never a quiet moment, and it got worse as everyone around me realised who was standing in front of them. Did that deter him? Not at all.

“I love you!” he called over the top of everything.

I checked through my documents as I shuffled forward slowly.

“Annabelle, will you marry me?”

I stood glued to the spot.

 _You have got to be joking me?_ I thought.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update. I'm coming out the other side of a cold, urgh, and wanted to at least get something down for you ! 
> 
> Enjoy xo
> 
> Totally wishing I was at SDCC this week!

I ignored Ben and continued my way through the queue, aware that I had possibly all the eyes of the world on me. My own eyes darted around nervously, my throat dry and eyes burning.

_How dare he?_

_How very dare he?_

“Are you going to ignore me, or give me an answer?”

“I’m trying to get through check in without having a heart attack,” I snapped, pushing past him and on towards the departure terminal and customs.

“Annabelle, I asked you a question.” Ben followed behind me, his stride long and measured while I trotted away quickly, getting nowhere fast.

“Let me ask you one question.” I spun on the spot, Ben running into me at my sudden change of direction.

“Anything.”

“Why now? Why not ask me a month ago, or two months ago, or six months ago? Why now, when I am about to embark on possibly the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had?”

“You are the only one that has told me the truth, every single time, you’ve told me the truth. I need you in my life.”

“I can still tell you the truth from the other side of the world,” I answered. “I have to go.”

“So it’s a no, then?”

“Notice how there are no paps around right now? Because no one called them?”

Ben stopped and looked around, shrugged his shoulders and waited for an answer.

“My answer is no.”

“You won’t even think about it?”

“Won’t even think about it.” I shook my head.

“Not ever?”

“Not right now, now.” I shook my head. “Get off the grid for a while. Get back to being that irreverent, cheeky monkey I fell in love with.”

“Can I call you?”

I shrugged. “What are you going to do if I say no?”

“Call you anyway.”

“So why are you asking?”

“I’m being a gentleman.”

I nodded. “It’s a start, I guess.”

Ahhh, that beautiful awkward silence that filled the space around us and got bigger, just like expander foam. Urgh.

I shook my head. “I have to go, Ben. Email me or something, but no. My answer is no. I’m not in the habit of replying to last minute marriage proposals in a positive manner.”

“So, if I asked you again in a week, it wouldn’t be last minute, would it?”

“Ben. Go. Away,” I stressed.

Without so much as a hug or a kiss, I turned and walked away, through security, and onwards to America. On towards a fresh start, new career prospects and, hopefully, wiping myself of the complete cluster that the last twelve to eighteen months had been for me.

First stop? San Diego Comic Con.

I might be a writer, but I’m still a total fangirl.


	48. Chapter 48

I was barely given enough time to throw my bags in my hotel room before I was whisked away into a waiting car and driven to the SDCC venue. I knew Tom was going to be around there somewhere, but neither of us had contacted the other. I assumed I’d probably run into him there, but would be completely fine if I didn’t.

It was actually a work related trip to comic-con, a panel for authors, and my name happened to be one of those top billed.

The best part of being an author was that you were more likely able to walk around anonymously, and that’s just what I did. I collected my swing tags, passes, and wrist bands before I was let free in the venue.

Enormous is the only way I could describe it. People, stands, halls, and excitement rumbling off the walls and into everyone in attendance. There was a definite buzz in the air. Tempting fate, I went straight for the Marvel panel, hooray for VIP passes.

Sitting in the audience was a unique position to be in. I heard and saw everything, and knew that I couldn’t interact with anyone in the panel, Tom included. When he walked into the hall, I was sure the roof was going to collapse, the screaming was so loud.

He did the right thing, smiling and waving very graciously, before taking his seat. I watched as he fiddled with a jug of water, poured a few glasses out for those around him, and waited for the panel to start.

Then, he spotted me. A smile ran across his face, and he held up his hand, pointing to a ring finger. My mouth dropped open. How the hell did he hear about that? Quickly, he pulled his phone from his pants and tapped out a message.

_I assume you said no?_

_To what?_ I replied.

_The marriage proposal, of course? It’s all over the internet._

Oh, you have to be kidding me, I thought.

“Cumberbatch’s failed proposal… going for third time lucky?” was just one of the headlines on offer through the news search.

I couldn’t get away from him if I tried.

I slipped out of the Q&A panel before it ended, mostly in the hopes of slipping away from Tom. The situation with the three of us was awkward enough without throwing a marriage proposal and a plane trip in for good measure.

I climbed out of the shower in my suite, wrapped the towel around me and listened to the thumping on the door, again. Towel wrapped around me, I headed to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Your monkey’s uncle. Who do you think?” Tom.

I pulled the door open and let him in.

“This is certainly a greeting.” He gestured at the towel.

“Don’t even think about it,” I answered. “How’d you hear?”

“All it takes is one person with a smartphone and it’s all over Twitter, and then the internet.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “I mean, is he completely stupid?”

“Just desperate, I think. I wouldn’t want to see you disappear, either. You’ve been the only stable thing in his life the last eighteen months. He’s lost a lot of friends, a lot of career opportunities, and you’ve always been there. Now, you’ve packed up and left, so I guess he was panicking, and didn’t want to lose you.”

I pushed the bathroom door shut just enough to appropriate some privacy and get changed.

“So you told him no?”

“I told him no,” I confirmed.

“Good.”

“That wasn’t to free me up for you, either,” I reminded him. “How’d you find me here anyway?”

“You and I are in the league now where my people ring your people, who ring my people back and arrange things. Hence, I am here.”

“Jesus, Tom, really?”

“Just Tom will do perfectly fine,” he teased. “What are you doing for dinner?”

“Sleeping.”

“Hungry?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Want to grab something? I know a great place down the street, nice and private.”

“Sure, okay.” I returned from the bathroom and pulled a jacket on.

“Trust me, you won’t need that, it’s lovely and warm outside.”

“Okay, alright.” I threw the jacket back down on the bed, grabbed my room key and purse, and followed Tom out the door.


	49. Chapter 49

Ben looked at the contract in front of him. American television. A twelve month deal. Pilot episode and first season, if picked up, plus a rom-com film. Chomping at the bit to try his hand at comedy, he was keen to sign up on the dotted line.

It meant twelve months in America.

Twelve months to try and make things up with Annabelle.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Karon asked.

“On my own terms this time,” Ben answered. “Yes.”

The television series would see him headline an ensemble cast in an action adventure series, working with a personal trainer to bulk up along the lines of Star Trek again.

Laptop, iPad, iPhone packed. Clothes, sneakers, and toiletries and, a month later, he was boarding a flight to America. In the aftermath of Charlotte, he’d lost and rejected a lot of work. He needed time to heal, space to grow and, more importantly, rebuild burned bridges. The most important of those being with Annabelle.

They’d exchanged emails, brief phone calls, and Ben had sought her advice on signing on for the television series.

“What works for you, in your heart?” she’d asked.

“I need to get away from this city for a while. I need to take stock. I need one project on the go at once, not five.”

“Okay. How do you feel about this series? Does it excite you?”

“It does, yes.”

“How about the film? Can you send me over the script to read?”

“I’ll flick you an email now,” he offered.

“Do you like the script?”

“I love it. It’s just a nice, offbeat romance, and you know I’ve wanted to do one of them for a while.”

“The romance or the comedy?”

“Let’s be honest, I’ve been in failed romances and the butt of jokes for a little while now, haven’t I?” Ben asked.

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

“I miss you,” he blurted.

“I know. I know. But distance is good right now,” Annabelle assured him.

“When I arrive, can I see you?” he asked. “Please?”


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry. Hoping to get back into the good stuff shortly. :) Thanks for playing xo

I looked through the peephole in the door. Ben swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands fisted in his pockets, thin material stretching over his knuckles and legs. At that point in time, I wondered if I was the hamster on the wheel, destined to go round and round in circles.

“I’m not loving America,” I admitted.

Ben had settled on a stool at the kitchen bench, clutching his elbows as he leaned forward into the table.

“You’re not?”

“I miss home. I miss the Tube, I miss the crazy fans, I miss having everyone close, I miss being able to get on the bus to visit Tom.”

“I was hoping you’d say you were loving it.”

I shook my head. “Not really, no. The grass is always greener, right?”

“You okay? You seem depressed?”

“No depressed, just disappointed, I think.” I walked past Ben and stationed myself on the couch. “Want to sit down?”

“Are you going to stay in America?” Ben finally piped up, breaking the silence that filled the room.

I shrugged. “Not sure, really. I mean, I can collaborate online… can’t I?”

“I’m going to be completely honest, and I hope it’s not out of line.” He swung around to face me. “I came here because of you. I miss you, even just on a friendship level. You were the most real thing in my life and, once you left, it just wasn’t the same.”

I studied my lap for far longer than I should have, embarrassment creeping up and prickling at my chest, then my neck, and my face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Ben offered. “I can leave if you like?”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s order in, and you can convince me why I need to stay.”

“That one’s easy, really.”

I waited for it, sure he was going to tell me that he was the reason I needed to stay. “It is?”

“Fame, fortune, fanboys chasing after you, global adoration. Me to star in the series adaptation, which was can insist is filmed in London to get us both back there.”

I laughed, “Good thing I set the books in London.”

“I’m so glad.”

“I feel like such a fuck up.” I slid down into the couch, laying flat, knees hitched up.

“I’m sorry, did we switch bodies?” he asked.

“You’ll recover.”

“Hardly. I’ll be doing Hallmark lunchtime television movies within the year.”

“That’s not true.”

“How are book sales?”

“The Bitch Effect is still in force.”

“Bitch Effect?”

“The Cumberbatch Effect.”

“I have an effect?”

“Surely you know about that.”

“I don’t think I want to know about it. Get me the pizza menu.”


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a poking, a prodding, and a prompting... I think we're back!

**12 months later – London, UK**

“Welcome home Ms. Weir,” the passport officer stamped me back into the UK.

“Thank you so much.” I couldn’t take my documents back quick enough.

“Glad to be home?”

“Ridiculously glad. Thank you.” I walked through to the luggage carousel to collect my bags.

America worked out okay in the end. Ben and I stripped everything right back to the beginning, and worked hard on our friendship. There were a lot of long nights, discussions, and wine drunk.

He became my first beta reader, and I became his acting ‘coach’, helping him learn his lines night, after night, after night.

Six months in, and we combined homes. It was cheaper paying one lot of rent instead of two. I moved home a month before he did, final reshoot on his series holding him over in America. It then became a process of splitting up belongings that slowly started to merge.

“Is this yours, or mine?” we called out to each other.

“Fucked if I know!” became the common answer.

DVDs, CDs, and books all ended up covered in sticky labels with names on them.

The entire time we lived together, there was no sex, no romance, just a nice, decent friendship.

Until he got home, I had free use of his house until I found my own.

**

“Honey, I’m home,” I sang down the phone.

Ben laughed. “How was the flight?”

“Good, good,” I answered. “I’m just going to nap, and then I’ll air everything out.”

“No rush.”

“How are you?”

“My house is so empty,” he complained. “I’m all alone, there’s no one here besiiiiiideee meeeeee.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I snorted. “Anyway, just letting you know I’m here, and I’m alive.”

“Thank you for calling,” he offered. “Be safe.”

“You too.” I smiled down the line. “See you in a few weeks.”

**

My head throbbed, and I held it tightly as I walked toward the front door. The doorbell rang for the third time.

“I’m coming!” my voice croaked.

“Hurry up!”

I squinted into the sunlight as I pulled the front door open. “Tom!”

“Baby girl,” he laughed. “I bought muffins! Welcome back to the hood!”

“Jesus take the wheel,” I mumbled.

He didn’t wait for an invite, pushing through into the kitchen. “So dusty in here.”

“Yeah, I need to clean.”

“Hire a cleaner, you need to get reacquainted with London Town.”

“I need to sleep, Tom!”

“It’s eight a.m.”

“I got home at one a.m.,” I argued.

Tom pouted. “Give me a hug. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course.”

Media attention had died down in the time I’d been gone. In fact, I think we were almost forgotten, so we managed to stroll through Soho early in the morning and grab a full breakfast.

“God, this is amazing.” I ordered a second coffee. “Food here is amazing. Food over there sucks.”

“Want another round?”

“I could, but you might be pushing me home.” I smiled. “Tunnocks. I need Tunnocks bars.”

“We’ll get some on the way back.”

“Am I right in assessing media as having died down?”

“Absolutely.” Tom nodded. “Gone quiet. Charlotte’s disappeared. No one gives a shit anymore. No one batted an eyelid when you guys shacked up in the US.”

I nodded, wiping my mouth. “Good, good.”

“You gonna stay there long?” he prodded.

“Not sure. It feels weird being next to my old place.”

“I don’t know who moved in there,” Tom offered. “Haven’t knocked on the door.”

“I miss it,” I sighed.

“I miss the three of us, to be honest.” Tom pulled a few tenners from his wallet. “Breakfast is on me. I’m glad to have you back.”

“I miss the three of us, too.”


	52. Chapter 52

It’s not until you’re without the essentials that you realise how much you miss them. That’s how I felt about Ben within a week of returning to London. I hadn’t unpacked the tiny amount of belongings I’d brought back with me, figuring I should be out looking for accommodation anyway.

I’d finished three scripts in ridiculously record time, and that allowed me to get straight back into writing a novel when I got home. I thought I’d enjoy writing in the peace and quiet again, but it proved difficult.

“So, here’s the thing.” I’d called Ben in the middle of his night.

“I’m sleeping.”

“So, sleep listen,” I answered.

“No.”

“I can’t write in a quiet house.”

“Jesus. You called me for this?”

“I miss you. I miss your noise, your stupid dancing, and singing.”

“I’m not dancing for you now.”

“Can you sing for me?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“So you say.”

“Go find Tom, I’m sure you’ve caught him since you got home.”

“Sir Benedict, are you jealous?”

“Unlikely.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“I miss you,” I repeated. And meant it.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Can I go back to sleep? I have to be on set early.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Bye, idiot.”

“Bye, bigger idiot.”

Next on my list of people to see, and I obviously hadn’t seen them soon enough, was my family. Again, Mum organised one of her big family dinners. That, of course, included Nanna.

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can we?” she snapped, now hobbling around on a frame.

“Hey?”

“Still not pregnant, not married. I’m going to have to pay someone to knock you up. Can you do that? Are there hitmen for that?”

I laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Gigolos.”

“I don’t want a gigolo.”

“What about the Lizard? Benjamin? Barret?”

“Benedict?”

“Him. He’s actually not all that ugly. I mean, you look at anything enough and you get used to it, right?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” I rolled my eyes. “I lived with him in America.”

“Clearly weren’t servicing each other’s needs, then. Look at you, skinny little thing.” She hobbled away back to the table.

“Nanna!”

“What?”

“I’m gonna break your fucking hips!”

“They’re already plastic, go for the kneecaps!” she called back.

She wasn’t giving up on me at all. Perched on a bench seat with a bowl of dessert and glass of wine later in the day, she pushed her little cart over to me and sit down.

“You know we only want to see you happy,” she warbled.

“I am happy,” I insisted. “I’m in a very good place right now.”

“But we do need to plan this. Who are you having children with? The boy with the big sceptre, or the alien?”

I laughed, struggling to keep cake in my mouth. “Nanna! Stop!”

“I mean, we can always pray the children come out looking like you.”

“They are both lovely gentlemen. If my children should look like either of them, I’d be happy.”

“You should have a threesome.”

“A what? No!”

“I had one in my time.”

“NANNA!” I shouted.

“Like being the meat in a sandwich.”

“Fuck me,” I muttered.

“They will you ask them.”

“You know what, I’m going to call Ben. You can speak to him. Would you like to speak to him?”

“Oh yes.” She made grabby hands while I got my phone out to dial Ben.

“Well, this is not a surprise at all.”

“Want me to hang up?”

“No, God no. How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“I have to tell you something,” he started.

“What?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I answered, buoyed to hear him admit it.

“So, What’s up?”

“I’m with my nanna. She wants me to have your babies.”

“Right,” he drawled.

“She’s also suggested I have a threesome with you and Tom.”

“Fuck no,” he answered. “I don’t share.”

“You tell her.” I handed the phone over.

“He hung up, the little shit.” Nanna shoved the phone back at me.

There was nothing but a text message on the screen.

_I think it’s time we had one of ‘those’ talks when I get home?_

I agreed.


	53. Chapter 53

I sat facing the window, my arm slung over the back of the carriage chair. Ben sat in what looked like pyjamas; faded blue track pants, a white t-shirt, sneakers, his earbuds, a scarf, and his flat cap, glasses shoved in the neck of his t-shirt.

His arms folded across his front, luggage shoved in the racks behind us, and his head lolled about as he did his best to stay awake. The eyes got slower and slower as they shut, his head lolled about and, every few minutes, he’d jerk awake.

I snorted.

“Hello.” I smiled.

“Shuuuut up,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

"I'm sleeping." He closed his eyes again.

“Tom and I had an orgy last week.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Lots of girls.”

“Mmmm.”

“All naked.”

“Mmmm.”

“Including the girl that bought my house.”

“Mmmm.”

“She was tasty.”

A single eye popped open and rolled around to look at me. “You are such a shit.” He leant back into the corner created by the chair and the wall of the carriage.

“It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back.” He shuffled about. “But I’m going to sleep.”

“We’ve got maybe five minutes until Paddington.”

“Wake me up then.”

**

It was early afternoon, and I crept into his bedroom, the sound of his snoring not bothering me nearly as much as it normally would. A gentle hand on his shoulder, and I gave him a slight nudge.

“Hey,” I whispered.

He rolled over onto his left side and the snoring stopped almost immediately. I climbed onto the edge of the bed and settled in behind him, my arm wrapped around his middle and knees hitched up under his.

“I missed you.” I kissed his bare shoulder.

“I love being little spoon,” his voice croaked.

“I much prefer little spoon,” I teased.

He shuffled around quickly. “Alright, roll over, you can be little spoon.”

The room was quiet for a few minutes before I started smiling, which turned into a giggle, and then laughter.

“What?” Ben began.

“Big spoon, little spoon.”

“You started it,” he mumbled. “You weren’t serious about the orgy, were you?”

“No, we were waiting on you to get home.”

“Oh, good.”

Uncomfortable, and getting too warm, I climbed out of bed and stripped off to a t-shirt and my underwear and got back into the bed.

“You want to have that talk?” Ben asked. I think I wriggled into him a bit much.

I rolled over to look at him. “We should.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“What do you want?”

“I asked you first.” He smiled.

“I’ve missed us,” I admitted.

“You’re not worried I’m going to fuck it up again?”

I shook my head. “Not if you let me be boss.”

“Boss?”

“Yeah. Boss.”

“I hurt you the first time.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“What if that happens again, though? I mean, this is why I never did anything in America. I wanted to, but, you know…”

“You going to be honest with me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“So, let’s give it a crack, then? I mean, we’re in a bed together. You don’t do this with all your female friends, do you?”

“Well,” he smiled and rolled his eyes, “it could be how we start orgies.”

I laughed loudly, pulling the duvet over my head.

“What are you doing? Come here.” Ben pulled the covers away. “Let’s see if this still works.”

“If what still works?”

With a hand on my cheek, and fingers dancing through my hair, he kissed me.


	54. Chapter 54

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and tossed it toward the middle of the table. Tom tossed it back toward Ben, who tossed it back at me.

“I don’t want your fucking cootie germs,” Tom laughed. “Right, what’s going on with you two eggs?”

Ben looked at me and smiled.

“Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it’s on again.” Tom rolled his eyes and tugged on his tie.

“It’s very under the radar, though.” Ben pointed a finger. “So no sneaking around and telling people.”

“Whatever. You two were flavour of last year, not this year. No one cares.”

“Good, good.” I nodded.

“So, what are you two doing for the next few months?”

“I’m off filming next week,” Ben answered. “Cardiff a few weeks.”

“I’m hanging out in my pyjamas and writing.”

“Have you met your neighbour yet?” Tom asked.

“Have you fucked my neighbour yet?” Ben teased.

“No,” he chided. “Please. Standards.”

I snorted, soft drink burning up my nose. “Please.”

“I am a reformed man. Looking for serious relationship.”

“Tinder, right?”

“How do you know about Tinder?” I looked at Ben.

“I’ve heard about it,” he defended.

“Give me your phone.” I reached for his pocket.

He tossed his phone across the table. “Jealous much? You’ve had free access to it for twelve months.”

“Protecting my interests,” I teased. “I trust you.”

“Hope so.”

**

I walked out into the backyard, cold grass under foot, and one too many red wines. Tom followed me out, and Ben came bearing cigarettes.

“I wish you’d piss those things off.” I screwed my face up.

“I know. Me, too,” he answered. “After filming. I have a month off, I’ll go cold turkey.”

“You’re going to be a fucking nightmare.”

“Yep.” He took a drag and collapsed against the veranda support.

Tom had already walked across to a hole in the fence, an old knot that had shrunk and fallen out. I followed him across, a tiny light illuminating his eye as he peeked through.

“Can you see anything?” I whispered.

“You two will get yourselves into shit,” Ben grumbled.

“Yeah, look what happened to you last time,” I answered.

“Exactly.” He stubbed out his cigarette and walked over to us. “Can you see anything?”

“Not really,” Tom answered, the three of us taking turns to look through the hole.

“No, look,” Ben whispered. “Hello lingerie.”

“What?” Tom pushed him out of the way.

“Hey, me.” I pushed Tom away and peeked through. “Christ.”

“She’s not as hot as you,” Ben teased.

“Piss off.” I shot him a glance.

“Move.” Tom pushed me out of the way. “She’s gone. Where’d she go?”

“Hiddle-stoner, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The three of us screamed at the sight of a woman hanging over the fence.

“Just fixing a hole in the fence,” I tried, picking up what was left of the knot from the ground. “Glue, and stuff.”

“Glue and stuff?” She smiled. “Is that how you write your books.”

“That’s not very nice,” Ben laughed.

“And what’s your story? Were you actually engaged or not?” She nodded in Ben’s direction.

“No, no I wasn’t.”

“So, we have a pervert, a liar, and another liar.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Tom, shut up.” I elbowed him in the stomach.

“Did you maybe want to join us for a wine?” I offered. “We’ve had a few already, but you’re welcome to join us.”

“You know what? I think I will, but only because of Goldilocks over here.” She looked in Tom’s direction and disappeared. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

“Goldilocks.” I laughed.

“Piss off.”

“Who’ll be sleeping in Tom’s bed?” Ben roared with laughter and followed the two of us inside.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because someone asked, and I couldn't resist... and media are already calling these two out... Ben's been through the ringer. Now, it's Tom's turn.

Life had returned to something resembling normal in the month following Ben’s return. We did that whole adult thing of talking about what we wanted, and where we were going to take things. Thankfully, our ideas matched up, and we’ve been working on things since.

Tom had disappeared in sporadic clumps, his time spent with Jaks, our neighbour. She’d become an important, and balancing, fourth cog to our band of idiots. It wasn’t unusual to find all four of us out on a Friday or Saturday night, dinner and drinks until the early hours. It was cool, it was casual, and felt like the jigsaw puzzle had finally been put together properly.

It had been a week since either of us had seen Jaks, or Tom for that matter. Neither of them were answering their phones, and knocks on the front door had gone unanswered.

“Answering machine again?” I asked.

Ben frowned into his phone. “Yeah. Odd. He at least can normally text or email.”

“Something strange is happening.” And I can’t imagine I meant strange in a good way.

“Can’t force it, I guess. They’ll pop up when they’re ready.”

“God, unless they’ve run off to get married. Could you imagine,” I whispered, leant across the table.

“That would be gold.”

“Also, family party next weekend, remember?”

“I’ve got a few days off, that’s fine. Who’s it for again?”

“Nanna, she’s three-hundred and six. From memory.”

“Not hers, obviously.”

I laughed. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

“Haven’t I already?”

“Who knows. That much has happened. I can’t remember. I’ll bet she does, though.”

“Are we staying up at the estate for the weekend?”

“That sounds all very posh, doesn’t it?” I scrunched my nose up. “At the estate. You mean at their little house?”

“Little house? Please, it’s on an acre with beautiful gardens. All your dad needs is a DB9, a helper named Jeeves, and he’d be set.”

“I think he’s pondering one for his sixtieth.” I took a swill of my beer. “A DB9, that is, not a Jeeves.”

“Good man, as he should.” Ben tossed the last of a soggy chip back in the basket in front of us.

The pub was flat out busy on a Friday night, bodies everywhere. Still, we remained in our usual little corner. Sat by a fire pit, we ate dinner and drank pints until we got well tipsy, and decided walking through town would be a great idea. That didn’t last long, of course, it was freezing, and we decided a better place to end up would be bed.

Drunken hands grabbed at each other, and laughter filled the dark, empty house until we both fell asleep in a tipsy, post-shower, haze.

I woke the next morning when the bed creaked and gave way. Ben scooted out, pulled on some clothes and disappeared downstairs. The kettle whistled minutes later, and fresh brew was delivered. As far as I was concerned, I was still happy cocooned in bed.

“Wake up,” he demanded.

“No. I’m comfortable in here.”

“Are we going out for lunch today with your friends? The two that got engaged?” he asked. “Do I need to shave.”

“Don’t shave, I like the fluff.”

“How much do you like the fluff?”

I pulled the bed covers from my face and looked at him standing next to the bed. “Enough to pull the car over on a dirty little country road.”

“Not shaving. Got it.” His footsteps disappeared down the stairs again, only to come bounding back up moments later. “Annabella, stellar, oh lover and sharer of my bed please tell me you are awake right now.”

I frowned. “What is it?”

Ben crawled across the bed and threw a newspaper over my head. “Look, look, boy’s in trouble.”

I sat up and gathered the newspaper together. Tom was on the front cover. “Hiddleston’s new girlfriend.”

Ben look at me, eyebrows disappearing under a floppy fringe, and his lips pursed together. “See!”

“That’s not our neighbour.”

Ben rested back on the bed. “No, it’s not.”


	56. Chapter 56

For this next chapter, I am being completely lazy - but it was a free-form I wrote based around the previous chapter.

 

Check out [Tom: For One Night Only](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7219756).

 

When you've done that, then I'll continue.


	57. The End of the Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've heard you! Here's another chapter.

Jacs paced the kitchen, so much and so hard I thought she would wear a path between the sink and the refrigerator.

‘Well, I mean, it’s not like it was serious,’ she reasoned. ‘We haven’t seen each other in a month.’

‘So . . . it was basically over, then?’

She nodded. ‘But it does seem strange, doesn’t it? Where do you think he is?’

‘I’m sure he’s fine.’ Ben sat up straight, rolled his shoulders back and forth. ‘He’ll turn up eventually. It’s a Tom thing.’

‘Is it, though?’ I asked. ‘I don’t recall this ever happening.’

‘No offence . . .’

‘Oh, I do love sentences that start like that,’ I scoffed. Was it everyone’s get out of jail free card. It’s the “please pretend I’m not about to insult you” card.

‘But seriously,’ Ben squeaked. ‘You haven’t known him as long as I have. He’ll be fine.’

 

Turned out, he was perfectly fine, if not a little head over heels in love. We Skyped him later that night, his face beaming with a pride unlike I’d ever seen, a cute little button of a girl next to him. Isobel, he introduced her as. That was it for him, chastity belt on, signed on the dotted line, completely wrapped up in planning the rest of his life with this woman.

‘You sure he’s not on drugs?’

‘I’ve seen him high. This is not Tom high. This is Tom deliriously happy. It’s a good thing.’ Ben leant across the coffee table and poured out a pot of tea. ‘It’s a good thing.’

‘Is it, though?’ I asked, tucking my feet up under me. A nail caught on the fabric and left me wincing. ‘He’s just upped stumps a week before his movie shoot.’

‘A fortnight.’ He pointed a finger at me. ‘He’ll be back for that. They’re just doing the whole meet the family thing. He’ll whisk her back here. From what I hear, her career has already skyrocketed.’

‘That’s not exactly the first reason to fall in love.’

‘No, I don’t mean that. I just . . . she’ll have her pick of work now, won’t she?’

‘Perfectly capable before Tom,’ I sang.

‘You know, you are such a cynic.’

‘Me?’ I asked. ‘Are you kidding me. Of all the people on earth, you have given me every single reason to be a cynic.’

Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Here we go.’

‘No, not “here we go”,’ I said, my anger bubbling away like a pot of rice left alone on the stove. ‘All I’m saying is it’s sudden, and we know what happens with sudden, don’t we?’

‘I said I was sorry,’ he implored, voice rising in volume. ‘Sorry. So sorry, very sorry.’

‘Are you yelling at me?’ I ask, a laugh rising to the surface. ‘Are you getting angry at me because of my reaction to the shit things you did?’

‘I’m not doing this, Annabelle. We’ve gone over this a thousand times. I cannot apologise enough. I can’t. It was stupid, I was stupid, and there are _still_ articles in the Daily Fail about Charlotte and the mess that that became. I think it’s time we moved forward, don’t you?’

It felt as though the walls of the room were sliding in on us, and I wasn’t sure if it was in a Black Books way, or in a Star Wars trash compactor kind of way. Whichever it was, it was a sinking feeling. Ben was up and walking around the room, going over everything all over again. A broken record that, judging by this here and now, we hadn’t managed to fix.

Suddenly, the pacing stopped, the warbled, lengthy sentences stopped, and he looked at me. ‘Is this right, you and I?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean is there any point? Can we go back to what we had?’

‘We’ll never be what we once were.’

His shoulders slumped, realisation heavy. ‘So what do we do?’


End file.
